In War and Peace
by Annama
Summary: AH/AU. Edward is sent Iraq and Bella waits him at home. Fluffy, angsty, fun and most likely a little bit better than this summary. Rating for big themes and stuff in later chapters and 'cause I'm paranoid. My 1st Fanfic - be gentle.
1. Departure

_A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I own this storyline, but nothing else._

Departure

"Okay, my turn." For a brief moment I stare intently out of the passenger side window, concentrating. "Senior year, Prom Night. I kissed Tyler Crowley behind his van."

Edward shoots me a disbelieving glance. "Are you kidding me? I tell you my most humiliating childhood experience of all time and you tell me that you kissed some guy you had a crush on at your prom?"

I shrug. "First of all, everybody wets their bed as a child-"

"Not at twelve. And not at their first-ever-girlfriend's parents' guestroom," he interrupts.

"Whatever. And kissing Tyler WAS extremely embarrassing, because I secretly despised him and his kiss made me puke. Right after that very kiss. On his shoes."

There was a stunned silence and then he was roaring with laughter. "You actually _puked _in front of him? Like there in your pretty green dress and high heels? You weren't even drunk, Bella."

"Har-har. Yes I did vomit, out of sheer disgustingness of the situation and Tyler's bad breath. I have a weak stomach, I'll have you know," I state indignantly. "And how do you know what colour my dress was?"

"I was there, it was my school too."

"You were with Tanya. You didn't even know me back then."

" However poor choices I might have made otherwise, even I did notice a pretty girl when I saw one." Edward flashes me one of his special smiles he saves only for me and his eyes meet mine. I momentarily get lost in their forest green, but return quickly back to present when he shifts his gaze to the road ahead of us. However, the familiar feeling of oneness and gut-wrenching love lingers, and somewhere deep down builds another, huge, passionate, frightful feeling, almost forgotten. I will not let it surface. I can't.

"You are supposed to say that, it's one of your husbandly duties." Somehow it doesn't sound as sarcastic and off-handed as I thought it would. I try, and fail, to return to that meaningless, joking atmosphere. But it's too late, I can tell. Tension is back in his posture, the sense of camaraderie gone and the air is heavy with the words left unspoken. He answers something to my previous comment and I can't...I can't...I do not want to hear his voice. These words may be the first of the last ones he says to me and I don't want to hear them. I don't want to go to our big bed alone tonight and think about his last words, that the words he is now saying are possibly...the last ones. Ever. I more feel than hear the acceleration of my breathing and the sobs that force their way up from my throat.

No crying. No. I will not ruin this. No.

I make myself raise my eyes from my lap where they have been staring unseeingly my trembling hands. I meet his eyes again and I know I haven't fooled him for a split second.

"Bella." The back of his hand brushes my cheek, his fingers lingering on my lips. His voice is soft and rough at the same time. He pulls up on to the parking lot of a gas station and then turns to me. I have yet to utter another word and I try desperately to control my breathing, to keep myself from hyperventilating. I feel Edwards worried eyes on me, waiting for me to look at him. But I can't. Oh, I want to – God, do I want to! – but I also know that the second my gaze meets his, I will lose it, and I can't let that happen. I am not even trying to play the all-supportive-soldier's-wife- role, no, I am acting solely out of selfishness. I am afraid that bursting in tears now will only make it harder to let him go – he would not be able to not comfort me, not kiss off my tears, not pulling me to him, saying he'll miss me...and that I would not be able to endure. He promised me happy goodbyes, no crying or big words – and I'll be damned if I let him go back to his words.

Finally I manage to gather the remains of my determination and calm down enough to look back at him. He is still not convinced, his brown in deep creases and his shoulders tense, but he knows better than say anything.

"I'm fine. Seriously. We should – we should continue. You don't want to miss your flight." Word by word my voice gets stronger and less shaky.

Edward starts the engine again and we make it back to speedway in silence. Earlier feeling of lightness and gentle bantering is gone, but it's not uncomfortable either.

"So...Tyler Crowley..." he says when we are twenty minutes from Sea-Tac. And just like that, the heaviness is gone and I have to laugh. Damn he is _good._

"Yeah. He didn't return to my calls after that night and started to date Lauren the day after. He didn't seem too heart-broken."

"What about you? " Edward asked, small smile playing on his lips." Did you pour you bleeding heart on the pages of your journal?"

"No, but I gave that dress to Goodwill soon after the incident. And I believe it's your turn now, mister."

"What? To barf on to your shoes? Or to donate my prom dress to Goodwill?"

"No, you dofus. To share an embarrassing and/or humiliating memory."

"Dofus? Really? I thought those kind of words extinguished in 1997."

"Nope, it's still about the only word that perfectly describes you."

"What happened to a 'gorgeous sex-god', 'unbelievably good-looking' and 'a perfect husband'? Huh?" He tries to look offended, that sparkle in his eyes betraying him.

"I don't know, I haven't met any of those guys. Do you think I might have a chance?"

He attacks my left side with his right hand, tickling me until I nearly collapse to the floor from laughter.

"Stopstopstooop!" I wheeze, trying to escape his torture.

"Tell me I'm the best! Tell me you are one lucky, lucky girl to have such a sweet, good-looking, yet amazingly modest husband!" he demands, relentless.

"You're the b-best, most am-amazing—I can't remember, I forgot what it is you said – I-I-I" Edward moves his hand higher up on my side, under my armpit and I let out a shriek. "I love you, I love you, I love – " and then his fingers are gone and after my final chortles of laughter the silence is back and I don't quite understand what just happened.

"I love you, too, sweetheart", Edward says so quietly that I almost miss it. I throw a quick look at him and regret it immediately. His eyes are filled with anguish and I can't take it.

"No."I say in a low voice, which I don't recognise. "Don't you go there. You promised me."

"Bella--I can't—I have to—"his voice is low too and I have never heard it quite like this, and I pray to God that I never, ever will again. It's like all the life had left him and all there is is just blackness. I've always envied his ability to put all his thoughts and feelings into words, never afraid to tell me exactly how he feels – and now he seems to be at loss of words. At loss of spirit.

"You are not allowed to do that, remember?" I have steely edge in my voice. I swallow. "No big words. "

"You started it."

"You tickled me! And you wouldn't stop!" I shout and punch him lightly in his arm, and suddenly we both start to laugh at the absurdity of the moment.

"I just wanted to remind you about the hotness that is your husband," he says.

I laugh out loud. "You're just full of it, aren't you?"

"Don't you think I'm hot?" he mock-pouts, his lower lip jutting out adorably. "Because I happen to think that you are. Hot, I mean. You're my sex kitten. May I call you Pussy?"

I punch him again. "No, you may not. And yes, I think you are gorgeous, but also think you're cocky and don't need me to stroke your ego."

"But you don't think I'm hot?"

"Oh, give it a rest already!" I laugh.

"Stroking my ego – among other things – is one of you wifely duties, Mrs. Cullen. So suck it up." I swear, he never truly grew out of his teenage-boy mind. He usually just disguises it a little better. I tell him that.

"I'm going to have to survive without sex for the next six months. AND I have to mentally prepare myself for the overload of locker room talk that is going to ensue at the camp, so help me out here", he says lightly.

Surprisingly, I am able to answer with equal lightness: "I don't think I can help you with the locker room talk, since I've never been a horny teenage boy."

"But you _are_ a horny, 26-years-old woman with a dirty little mind."

"I think you're doing just fine on your own, mister. "

Edwards carries on with his "preparations" for the rest of the journey and it suits me perfectly, as I spend the majority of it doubled over with laughter.

I warm my fingers against the side of the coffee mug, inhaling the steam that twists through the hole in the lid. Something's must be wrong with the air-conditioning of the Departure Hall. It's so chilly.

"Bella!" I turn towards the familiar voice and spot a handsome, blond man with a beautiful, small woman in their mid-forties approaching the coffee shop. I raise my hand and smile widely. Edward's parents wouldn't miss this for a world. Their son is going to put himself and his medical degree to an ultimate test and go to Iraq. No matter what their thoughts are about the war or the justifications of it, they couldn't be more proud. Esme is so happy that Edward has finally found a career he feels passionate about and Carlisle – well, he is not a military man, but as a doctor he knows that his son could have chosen much easier job, pursue a career in some big, well -equipped hospital with great opportunities for professional development and state-of-art research facilities – and instead he chose a military career just to see if he could make it.

Esme wraps her arms around me as soon as she is close enough and envelops me in her motherly warmth. I feel my throat tighten and extract myself gently after hugging her back briefly. Carlisle kisses my cheek and pats my shoulder. He knows that I'm not big in showing my emotions.

"Where is he?" Esme asks, glancing around the hall.

"He is checking his bags. He should be back any minute."

We sit back on my table and Carlisle goes to buy them coffee. Esme grabs my hand in hers and smiles at me. That expression is so familiar it hurts. Those green eyes and that small, one-sided smile – his son was wearing those when I fell in love with him in the summer before college. I smile back at her without meeting her eyes.

"How are you doing, sweetie?" she asks.

"Good. Good." I swallow unnecessarily, still smiling. "How are you guys?"

"Oh..."she seems a bit taken aback about my seemingly steady composure. I'm glad I can fool _somebody_. "You know. Work, choosing bathroom tiles and kitchen furniture for the lake house, trying to rein Alice and endure her fashion exploits – the usual." Esme lets out a short, sweet laugh. I join in with my own.

"Oh, you got to love that girl! She is a force of nature and annoys you to no end, yet you can't help but fall under her spell. What's up with her these days?" I ask.

"She's in love, that's what's up", Carlisle said from behind us, sitting down on his chair and with a paper cup in each hand.

"Seriously?"

"Yep", he answers, popping the "p" hilariously. With a mock sigh he continues, his eyes twinkling with humour: "She met this boy in her art class about a week ago and now she's all smitten. 'Jazz' she calls him."

We all laugh. That does sound like Alice.

"Well, how is he? Have you guys met him?"

They both shake their heads and Esme says: "But we are going to. Apparently, according to Alice, we are hosting a family dinner next Sunday, and 'Jazz' is obviously the guest of honour. "

"You are welcome, too, by the way", Carlisle adds. "We are going to need all the support we can get."

"What are you three planning?" Edward's voice comes from right by my right ear scaring the living hell out of me. I let out a loud shriek and then turn in my chair to smack him.

Edward just laughs at my face and bends down to kiss me. His lips are soft and a little cold against mine and his breath smells like mint and honey and sun. I cling to his forearms and effectively pull him down to my level, making him kneel behind my seat. My neck and upper back are twisted towards him, my lower body still facing the table. We get lost in the kiss for a minute, forgetting that we have company – his parents none the less – and finally I hear Carlisle clear his throat loudly.

Edwards ignores him for a second, but then he pulls our lips apart and sits down on a chair next mine, taking my hand in his. He rests our entwined hands on his thigh, rubbing soothing circles to my palm with his thumb. My heart is still racing from our kiss – some things have not changed since our firsts – and I'm wearing involuntary, goofy grin in my flushed face. I must look every bit like my college degree right now, I just bet.

"All checked?" Carlisle asks from his son, who nods back. Esme reaches her arm over the table and Edward takes her hand in his free one, squeezing it gently. Her eyes are teary, just about to spill over.

"Oh Edward!" she wails suddenly, tears now flowing freely. Unlike my in childhood home, showing emotions has never been anything unusual between the Cullens. Laughter and crying are equally present in every day, every situation. Carlisle takes weeping Esme in his arms, rocking her gently. My eyes are glued to my lap, unwilling to look up. I know that Edward doesn't want to make a scene and I also know that my composure isn't much stronger than Esme's. I feel Edward's arm snake around my waist, his hand resting lightly on my stomach. And suddenly I need to get away, to be alone with him, and not to say anything. Nearly everything that needs to be said is already said and we have only so much time to just be. I raise my eyes to the info screen, searching frantically his flight.

"Twenty minutes", he says quietly to my ear, lips pressed against it. Our gazes lock to each other and wordlessly we stand up. Carlisle and Esme come from around the table to say their goodbyes. I step back slightly and let them have their moment. Carlisle says something quietly to his son, gripping his arm tightly. Edward nods gravely and hugs him. Then Esme lets out a shaking sob and her slender form is suddenly enveloped in Edward's strong arms. This time I have no difficulties to hear her words. They are said with fierce tenderness. "You come home."

"Of course, mum. I'll call you when I get there."

Some other words are exchanged; final, brief hugs, and then his parents take their leave. They know that we need these last few moments to ourselves. We wave to them when they step outside the doors, Edward's arm still around me. Slowly we turn and start to walk towards the security check. Fifteen minutes.

And then I am pressed to his chest, his arms holding me too tightly, yet not tightly enough. His lips are pressed on to my hair and his breath is coming rapidly, irregularly. I feel something wet dropping on the top of my head. And we stand like that, holding each other and not saying anything for a long, long time.

"I'm sorry I have to leave so soon after Christmas," he finally says, his words slightly muffled by my hair. "But I swear, next Christmas is going to be just about us. Us two."

"Us three", I amend quietly, not thinking.

"Pardon?" He raises his face and pulls back slightly so he can see mine.

I meet his eyes this time and let myself sink into them. So green. So dark.

"Us three. Not us two. Us three." My words come with a small smile and I let my right hand drop on to my tummy, still flat, but not for long. Edwards hands grip my upper arms tighter and his eyes are like saucers - big, forest green saucers.

"What. What. What are you telling me?" his voice is strained with all kinds of emotions, incredulity on top of them all.

"I'm telling you that next Christmas there is going to be one more member in the Cullen family. I found out this morning." My smile stays on, getting bigger, and all of a sudden my feet aren't touching the ground anymore and I'm spinning around in his arms. He lowers me back to ground, still laughing breathlessly.

"Bella, Bella, Bella..." He lowers on to his knees and presses his cheek against my belly, his hands stroking my sides. He looks up to my eyes and I see so much love and devotion and adoration there, that my heart soars. And there is this amazing look of wonder there, and when I see it I very nearly start to sob. I know that I am going against my own rules – no tears, no big words – but it all happens so fast. I'd meant to keep this from him just a little while longer, until his preparation camp is over and I've seen my OB/GYN, but it just slipped out on its own. Now he is so happy that I can't help being as overly exultant as he is – and it breaks my heart that he won't be there for my first scan and for the first waves of nausea and the first kicks. I can tell when this fact starts to dawn to him by the furrowing of his brow and the longing in his eyes.

"Don't. Go. There." I whisper to him as he stands up. But I can already see the early traces of building guilt in his eyes. Edward has the uncanny ability to feel responsible of every bad thing that happens, has happened in the past or has the potential of happen, especially when his loved ones are concerned. I want to stop that train from leaving the station. "Hey." My voice is firm but gentle. "You didn't know – hell,_ I_ didn't know. I've been on the pill and neither one of us could have predicted this. We didn't plan this. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault. " Then I add as an afterthought: "Well, it is a little. I mean, you _are_ hot as hell." My joke doesn't amuse him.

"I can't go."

"I said not to go there. I mean - not to start feeling all miserable. You are going to come back. Right? You will serve you time and then you'll come back to us and you will be there for the last trimester. You will see me become all fat and clumsy – well, clumsi_er_ – and hormonal."

"But I can't leave you now. I can't." His eyes are anguished and we don't have time for that. I glance the info board. Boarding to his flight is going to start in three minutes and he still has the security check to go through. This needs to be dealt with right now.

I take his face between my hands and drill my gaze to his eyes. I gather all my feminine authority and conviction and speak with surprisingly unwavering voice. "Edward Cullen. You are the love of my life and I would love nothing more than to have you with me every second of this pregnancy and not to be afraid for you. But you have wanted to do this for a longer time than we've been together and I love you too much to allow you to let go of this opportunity right now, when you finally have it. You will come back. Now you just have one more reason to do that. And I will keep you posted about every single, tiny detail and be bitchy and hormonal over the phone so you won't miss that part either. I will email you all the scans and record the heart beat to my iPod for you to listen. And you can brag about your son to your mates even though we both know it's going to be a girl and I will—" my rambling is interrupted by a hard set of lips and I give myself to his desperate kiss , because that's how I feel: desperate, in spite of everything I said, however true the words were. We kiss and kiss and hold each other until I have to unwrap his arms and push him towards the gate. "Go."

"I love you", he says backing from me, refusing to let me from his eyes. "Both. I love you both."

"GO!" I say laughing but it sounds more like a strangled sob that it is. My "I love you" is just a whisper, but he hears it and winks.

And then he is gone.


	2. Equilibrium

_A/N: Thank you for reading this! From now on there is going to be two separate storylines: the present and the past – past is written in italics. Obviously, at some point these two storylines are going to meet._

_Please continue reading this and, if you feel like it, leave a review._

_Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer own all things Twilight, including Edward. Hmh. Life is not fair._

Equilibrium

I am holding the toilet seat like a lifeline and my stomach turns over – for the fifth time today. Morning sickness, my ass. Basically I've been sick every time I put something in my mouth that is not water or lemon juice – and I don't even like lemon juice. I have tried cream crackers, orange, toast, dry pasta and ice cream, all with poor success. I merely opened the cupboard we keep coffee in and had to immediately bend over the sink. It's a good thing that Edward is not here to witness this particular side of early pregnancy – he gets a small anxiety attack every time I so much as catch a cold. And he should be the doctor in the house.

I hear the phone ringing in the hall. I consider staying where I am, my arms wrapped around the porcelain god, but I do not want to miss a possible call from Edward. He can only call once a day and can't use his own cell at the camp at all for some security reason. I have the number to the office there for emergencies and I truly hope I won't ever need it.

I rise slowly to my feet – they still feel a bit shaky – and rinse my mouth. The phone keeps ringing and I seek support from the ceiling while walking to answer it.

"Hello," I croak.

"Bella? Are you all right, darling?" Esme's voice is worried.

"No, I'm fine," I utter my signature answer without a second thought. " Just, erm, stomach flu, I guess".

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

Shit. I should have known, though – my mother-in-law is one of the most observant people I know and I'm the worst liar I know. The chances of keeping this as a secret from her were slim at best anyway.

Esme has misinterpreted my long silence and rushes to apologise. " Oh, I'm so sorry, it is not my place to ask you that, you do not have to answer me! Just tell me if there's anything I can do for you."

"No, don't worry about that. Actually, I was just stunned by your...perception. I _am_ pregnant and have been throwing up all day." Probably a tad more information than necessary. Esme does not seem to mind at all.

"OH MY GOD! Oh, Bella! That's wonderful news! How long have you known?"

"Just less than a week now. I think I'm seven weeks along. We haven't really told anyone yet...I found out the morning Edward left."

"Oh, you poor dear! The timing couldn't have been worse!" Esme is nearly sobbing at the other end.

"I'm happy regardless!" I say forcefully, because I am – as unexpected and ahead-of-time the baby is, it's definitely welcome. Pity is the least appropriate emotion in this situation. "And he is happy, too! Of course we both wish that he could be here the whole time, but he may never get another opportunity to do this." I add more softly: "He actually very nearly dropped the whole thing when I told him, but I made him go. I'm not going to let him give up his plans." And just like that, the heartache is back, throbbing in my chest and suddenly I miss him horribly. My own words have reminded me of that morning at the airport and of his face when I accidentally slipped out the news just before he was supposed to board. The wonder in his eyes. I let out an involuntary sob. Esme hears it and it brings back the soft tone to her voice.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it like that!"

"No, no. I just...miss him, I guess." I tell her, wiping my tears off quickly. "We didn't really have time to talk about this at all and he was just so ecstatic..." - and cue the tears again. Stupid hormones.

"I'm coming over." I don't have the chance to stop her before she hangs up. Not that I'd have any objections. I can really use a companion right now.

I try and tidy up in the house a little bit and realize to my imminent delight that the worst wave of nausea has left me. I keep myself clear from the kitchen just in case and close the door for a good measure. When I think the apartment looks presentable – not that Esme minds either way – I lie down on the living room sofa. My tears have dried on my cheeks, but I know there's a good supply of them just waiting for Esme's arrival.

On the flower table next to the sofa stands our wedding picture and few other frames of me and Edward. The oldest one is from our first summer together – the summer after High School and before we both went off to college. I still consider it the best and worst summer I have ever had.

"Why _is it always raining?" I moaned to Angela, whose good-natured face was also looking less than pleased. We had been planning a trip to the First Beach to do some serious sun bathing to look a little less pale in graduation. Obviously, living in Forks, we should have known better. _

"_It's only raining when we have something fun planned," Ang declared darkly. "Although, it also rains on boring school days..." she added as an afterthought._

_The weather had looked quite nice two hours ago and the forecast had promised sun for whole weekend. Like I said – we should have known better. Forks in Washington is one of the rainiest places in the country, and sunny days are as rare as they are unpredictable._

"_Wanna go see a movie?" I asked without much enthusiasm. _

"_Sure. The same as last week?"_

"_Sure."_

_We took my old, rusty truck to drive Port Angeles, and saw right away that the cinema was packed. After having a closer look we recognised some of our friends from school standing in a ticket line. On Friday nights there wasn't much to do, when you were underage and had a nine-thirty curfew._

_After last summer Charlie, my dad, had suddenly realized that I was a teenager and bound to do something off-limits at some point. Not that I had anything in my previous history of hanging out with my friends that suggested any kind of misbehaviour or earned that kind of apprehension. I was simply too boring and too unsocial to fall in trouble. I suspected that the whole curfew business had less to do with my behaviour and more to do with Charlie being the chief of police and a single father of a teenager in a town where everybody knew everybody. I was simply set to be a good example._

"_Look, there's Mike and Jess – and Ben, too!" Angela seemed thrilled about seeing them for some reason I could not fathom - we didn't hang out with the first two. It was part of the Forks High School power game, and even though we didn't quite understand the rules we still followed them, just to maintain the peace. Mike was dating either Jessica or Lauren – or possibly both - and was thus part of the "royalty", but for the life of me I couldn't figure what Ben was doing with them. _

"_Why is Ben there?" I wondered aloud taking in his slightly tense demeanour and decidedly uncomfortable expression. I felt a jolt of childish jealousy – Ben was in _our _circle, one of the good ones. He was far too kind and friendly and selfless to be hanging around with airheads like Jess and Lauren._

_Angela shrugged and her forehead was in deep creases. "I think it's because of his new car. And Lauren is still his cousin, even if she's a bitch."_

_I followed Angela inside the theatre and we took our places in the line just behind a big group of people. Right in front of me stood the biggest guy I'd ever seen. He had a dark, curly hair and an impressive, muscular frame. I knew him – he was a year older than me and used to play football in Forks High. Emmet Cullen his name was. And then I recognised the rest of the group. There was Rosalie Hale, Emmet's girlfriend from college and that strawberry blonde, tall and beautiful girl from my algebra class was Tanya Denali, the girl friend of --_

"_I wander where Edward is," Ang whispered to my ear and I realized that she had also been studying the unfairly gorgeous people in front of us. I felt my cheeks redden. I didn't know Edward Cullen at all and had only seen him at school, him never seeing me. And why would he? If Jess and Lauren were "royalty", Edward and his entourage were something even far above that. They never spent time with anyone outside their circle, but were always polite to everybody and avoided attention. Still...I'd had a crush on Edward since I'd seen him in the cafeteria for the first time. I had yet to say a single word to him and I wasn't entirely sure he knew about my existence._

_That tiny grievance was remedied right then and there. I first heard a curse and then felt something heavy collapsing on me and something wet and freezing cold gliding down on the skin of my back. I shrieked and jumped aside reflexively. Edward Cullen stood there face flushed, his wild, reddish-brown hair messier than ever, holding now half-empty cup of Coke and wearing murderous expression. He was absolutely _delicious.

_Somebody had obviously pushed him from behind and accidentally thrown him to my back. We stood there for few moments in complete silence, stunned in my part and furious in his. "I'm sorry!" I peeped before realizing how ridiculous it sounded – I hadn't actually done anything to be sorry for. I blushed even more after that._

_Edwards pissed expression turned first to confused and then to amused. And then he started to laugh. "I'm sure some apologies would be more than appropriate, but not necessarily from you!"_

_I let out a weak giggle myself._

"_I apologise for falling onto you and ruining your shirt," he stated sincerely. "Some jackass ran into me and ..."_

"_I don't mind at all," I rushed to tell him and wanted to die right after the words left my mouth. No need to let him in to my secret infatuation just yet. "I mean – it's not ruined –I can wash it. My shirt. It wasn't your fault."_

"_Or if you take it off Edward can do it for you," I heard Emmet's booming voice coming from behind me. I couldn't watch Edward's face and just wished the floor to open and swallow me whole. I didn't even want to think what Tanya's face might look like at the moment._

"_Oh shut up, shithead." Edward didn't sound amused anymore. I stole a quick glance of him and saw that he hadn't moved back to his group. _

"_I'm sorry – do you go to Forks High?" he asked suddenly and I lifted my head timidly, just in time to catch the flash of interest – and maybe something else – in his eyes._

"_Um – yes I do. Bella Swan," I said, holding out my hand and he grasped it in his. It was soft and warm and I could feel sensation close to an electric current sparking between our skins – but rather than jolting us apart it made us tighten our grasps more. I knew he felt it too. His deep green eyes sought mine out for a second and held it with his lips slightly ajar and breathing few times really quickly. He might not have any feelings for me, he might not have even known me but I was absolutely sure that the current hadn't gone unnoticed by him._

"_Edward Cullen. Pleasure to meet you, Bella," he said and smiled – boy, did he smile! It was slightly lopsided and it did funny things to my heart. And then he bent his head and kissed my hand and his wicked, bronze hair touched briefly my wrist – it felt like a kiss, too. I just stood there without saying or moving or daring to look at him. I didn't even flinch when he gently dropped my hand and went back to his friends. I heard Emmet's loud whisper: "Dude, what was_ that_?" Edward ignored him._

_But it was a valid question. I was more confused than ever about my stupid crush which wasn't a mere crush anymore but something more. And I had made a complete idiot of myself. Way to go, Bella._

_Angela had been following our encounter without a word and was wearing a peculiar expression on her face. "What?" I asked, feeling like I should defend myself for some reason._

"_What just happened there?" she asked._

"_Didn't you see him falling onto my back and the Coke –"_

"_Not that! The whole handshake thing! And the kiss! I mean, he doesn't even acknowledge us at school!" she hissed, astonished._

_I blushed again. Angela couldn't possibly think –"I don't know," I confessed quietly." You tell me. I didn't know if he even thought about it."_

"_Oh please! Even Emmet noticed it! It was the most intense _whateveritwas_ I've ever seen!" Angela looked at me incredulously._

"_I don't know..."_

"_Do you like him?"_

_I nodded._

"_Well after tonight I think he just might like you back, Bella."_

"_He has a girlfriend."_

"_Even so. I don't tell you to act on it, but Tanya isn't blind either._

_It was utterly ridiculous. I was sure we were blowing it way out of proportion and I decided to forget the whole thing. I mean, Edward freakin' Cullen! Talk about different league!_

"_And it was Ben, by the way." Angela added matter-of-factly. "The one who pushed Cullen I mean. He did it totally on purpose, I could tell."_

"Why_ would he do that?!!" I hissed furiously._

_Angela shook her head to my obvious blindness. "Because he, as do everybody who knows and loves you, wants you to have a chance with your man."_

_I didn't understand anything anymore. Since when was Edward 'my man'? I felt my cheeks flame and I wanted to cry with humiliation._

"_And making him topple over is the way to do that? And when have I ever implied that I have any feelings towards him?" Angela was the only person I had ever confided about my stupid one-sided crush, and I knew she never gossiped._

"_I'm sorry to tell you, but you are fairly transparent sometimes, Bella." Ang smiled at me kindly. "And Ben knows you too."_

"_Were you in on this amazing plan, then?" I demanded angrily._

"_No, but I saw him pushing him and he always has the best intentions. __And he kind of winked at me before 'losing his balance' ". Her air- quotation marks made the whole scene look, if possible, even more obvious and like it was from some stupid TV sketch. _

_I huffed. Angela always stood out for Ben. I wondered what _her_ secret agenda was._

I jump when the doorbell rings. In my rush to get up from the sofa where I have momentarily dozed off and to the door I stand up too fast and am treated by a moment of dizziness. After getting my balance back I make my way to greet Esme. As soon as I get the front door open Esme grabs me tightly in her arms.

"Hi Esme!" I laugh and cry to her shoulder. "Good to see you too! Please come in."

She releases me and follows me to the living room and we sit down on to the sofa, turning to face each other.

"Oh, Bella!" she breathes. "Let me just tell you how happy I am for both of you!"

"Thanks. We are happy too."

"Well, tell me everything!" she urges me. For a moment it is very easy to see where Alice gets her exhausting enthusiasm.

"I'm not sure if you're comfortable hearing about the exact method..."I tease her laughing.

"Oh, not _that_! Tell me, how have you been? How did you find out? Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"I've been...ok, I guess. Just nauseous, like all the time, instead of just mornings." It feels good to talk to somebody. I tell her about doing the test the morning of Edward's departure and about his reaction. When Esme hears that I have yet to make an appointment to my OB/GYN, she makes me to call her right away. It feels so good to be taken care of – even if it's not Edward.

We talk for an hour or so, before Esme has to go to meet a client. Before she leaves she makes me swear to call her if I need anything. "Even if it's just a hug or company to your doctor's appointment – just call me, ok?"

I thank Esme for everything and hug her for goodbye. It's nearly six 'o'clock and even though I try to be subtle about it, I'm pretty sure that Esme catches my slight anxiety. She kisses me on a cheek and tells me to say hi from her to Edward when he calls. When she's gone, I have nothing left but to wait.

He always calls.

And he calls today, too. I answer before the first ring ends and don't care that I sound desperate – because I am. Desperate to hear his voice.

"Bella." It greets me with its velvety tone and familiar intonation. No one, _no one _says my name like he does.

"I've missed your voice," I breathe.

He chuckles. "Well, here it is. Knock yourself out, sweetheart."

"How've you been?" There's so much I would like to talk to him, but this is the most important.

"Good. I mean, the training is physically and emotionally exhausting, but I think that's what it's supposed to be like. We only have four weeks here before the real deal and they want us to be as ready as possible. And Bella, I feel like I'm doing the right thing." I can hear the excitement in his voice and am suddenly overwhelmed with pride and love.

"That's great, Edward! I'm so happy that you feel like that." _That way my sacrifice doesn't feel too big_, I want to add, but know better than to do that. Pointing out my part here would make him feel awful and I do not want to do that.

"I mean, they can call us even earlier if the things get too dicey on the field – so I can't really complain. You can never be too prepared." I feel myself swallow needlessly. I haven't really thought about that.

"So, how are things?" he asks and I love the smile in his voice.

"Good. Esme just left." I take a deep breath and blurt out my confession. "Edward, your mum knows. I didn't tell her, she kind of guessed herself....I would have waited for you to tell him, I promise, but she knew that I wasn't well and came over and it was so much easier because I didn't have to pretend, and also---"

"Hey, hey, hey, hon, take a breath, will you?" Edward interrupts me and goes silent for a second. "You have been ill?" he then asks, apprehensively.

Shoot. I didn't mean to tell him that. On the other hand, I _did _promise to let him in to everything concerning my pregnancy and this is definitely a part of it, however unpleasant.

"Only a little. It's completely normal in early pregnancy. No need to worry," I console him. "Aren't you upset that I told your mum?"

"Of course not!" He sounds appalled by mere suggestion. "Whatever makes this easier for you. And I know mum doesn't gossip. "

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"I'm sure. Now, tell me," he changes the subject and his voice turns devious, "do your bras still fit?"

I laugh. "Now that you ask, they do feel a little bit uncomfortable. But you wouldn't probably like them, now that they are so much more… filled. I mean, you've said yourself that you like my girls small and perky – not that they're not perky anymore..."

"Okay, woman! You are not allowed to talk to me like that when I am in the middle of a military camp with no privacy whatsoever!"

"You asked! And whatever would you need privacy for, mister?" I tease. "I only told you that you are not missing anything you would want to see."

"Oh, I'm not, am I? I think I might just be able to adjust to the said change if I had to."

"You may really have to, because these are probably not going to get any smaller when the baby is born," I inform him, a mock worry in my voice.

"I think I'll live."

There's a moment of comfortable silence. Then he says in a completely different tone, all teasing gone: "I miss you, Bella. I miss you so much."

"I know."

"I can't wait to see you. I know it's not going to be soon, but..."

"But you will, eventually," I finish forcefully. "On you first furlough or whatever it's called. And after six months you will be all mine again and I'll never let you out of my sight again. I'm going to be overbearingly clingy wife, just so you know."

"I can't wait. And in the meantime – you take care of yourself, of both of you, do you hear me?"

"I will. And same goes to you, Edward. If something happens to you, I'll kill you myself. Am I being clear?"

"Yes, dear," he answers humbly.

"Good. And I love you."

"Love you, too. I think I need to quit now, there's a line forming here."

"Okay. Call me tomorrow, again," I remind him unnecessarily. He always calls.

"Bye, sweetheart. I love you."

"Bye."

When I close the phone I remember that I didn't say hi from Esme. But I'm sure she'd understand.


	3. Familia

_A/N: Thanks for reading and alerting!! Little family fluff in this chappy, next one is going to be nice and angsty._

_Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Stephenie Meyer. Also some of the lines in this chapter. _

Familia

I turn to Cullen's driveway at exactly seven-thirty. I hate being late. I also hate cutting short my phone conversations with Edward, and today the latter won. I closed the phone at seven, had showered, changed and put on the little make up I usually wear at seven-fifteen. And I'm not late. Carlisle said half past seven.

The front door of the house – or The Cullen Mansion, as I named it the first time I visited Edward's home - flies open and Alice appears to the porch holding hands with tall, blonde man and smiling wider than I've ever seen her smile, and that is saying something. She is bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet and even from the car it is hard to miss the absolutely adoring look the man by her side casts on her. That must be "Jazz". I hope I will be able to think his name without the quotation marks at some point in the near future.

I park the car to my usual spot next to Carlisle's Mercedes and to my great delight I spot Emmett and Rose's red BMW on the other side of it. This is really going to be a proper family dinner. Esme must be ecstatic.

"Bella!" Alice greets me on the porch by jumping to my arms and nearly knocking me over – only her boyfriend's restraining hold on her hand prevents that from happening. "It's so good to see you – you haven't been here since forever!" she enthuses. I hug her back, laughing.

"Good to see you too, Alice! I've missed you like crazy."

Alice releases her hold on me and suddenly she looks all business. "Isabella Cullen. Meet Jasper Whitlock, my boyfriend." However giddy and childish and frivolous she may usually appear, it is obvious that this moment means great deal to Alice. It is also clear that Alice Cullen is head-over-heels in love with this man.

"It's nice to finally meet you," I state sincerely to Jasper and shake his hand.

"Likewise, Isabella," he says, laughter in his eyes and I immediately recognise a kindred spirit.

"Bella, everybody calls me Bella – even Alice, even though she says she likes my real name better ."

"Well, then-"he laughs, "great to meet you, _Bella."_ The southern intonation in his speech makes him even more charming. I can definitely see why Alice is so smitten. Blue eyes, wavy blond hair and lean frame that over-towers Alice's tiny one by two feet – he is absolutely gorgeous. Almost as gorgeous as my husband, which is about as good as it gets.

We finally get inside and I am greeted warmly by Esme and Carlisle in the lobby. We exchange conspiratorial smiles, hers questioning and mine reassuring.

"Is it my Bells that I hear?" The boisterous voice comes from the living room, and sure enough, Emmett appears on the doorway. He opens his arms as an invitation." Come here, baby girl, give good ol' Em some love!" And it is really hard to resist. I jump into his arms laughing and earn a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

"How's my baby brother? He hasn't called me since the first day on the camp – apparently he has somebody else he is using his daily phone calls for."

"He is doing well. I just talked to him. He misses you all and asked me to send his love."

"Sappy as ever, I see." Em lets go of me and as a big happy group we wander to the living room. I sat on the sofa next to Emmett and Carlisle. I see Jasper sitting on the armchair and pulling Alice on his lap, a gesture so familiar that my heart hurts. Carlisle puts his arm in a fatherly manner on my shoulder and pulls me closer to his side.

"Hey - Em, where's Rosalie?" I ask, turning to face my brother-in-law.

"She is upstairs, waking up Lilian. The little monster had one of her temper tantrums just before we left and we thought it might be better for her to have her nap before we bring her to a delicate social event such as this," he states, gesturing to Jasper who is rolling his eyes to him.

"Are you talking about your wife or your daughter?" he asks in turn. The two seem to have met before. "I wonder where your child gets her temper from."

Emmett sighs, in mock exhaustion, but fools no one. We all know that Rose and Lilian have him neatly wrapped around their little fingers. "I don't know, but I certainly have my hands full." Like on cue, Rose appears from upstairs carrying their little daughter, who has inherited her mother's golden curls and her father's irresistible dimples.

Rose and Emmett are a couple that never cease to amaze me. For an outsider a marriage of two so completely different people should be doomed to fall apart, but actually their differences seem only to keep it fresh and interesting. Where he is loud, funny and a little goofy and juvenile at times, she is classy, dignified and sometimes strikes as a little bit proud. Rumour has it that she is also positively lethal when angered. Oh, and when I started to date Edward she absolutely loathed me. Fortunately that is apparently not the case anymore, although I still have rather formal and polite relationship with her. Unlike the one I have with her daughter.

"Auntie Bella!" the little girl squeals as soon as she sees us and reaches for me.

"Hi, Lily! Come and give me a kiss, will you?" I say and rise to my feet to take her from Rose's arms. Lily wraps her tiny arms around my neck and places several wet kisses to my jaw. "Have you been a good girl, Lil?" I ask her and give her tiny nose a peck. "Eating your morning cereals and being nice to Mommy and Daddy?"

She nods gravely. "But Mommy was naughty today!" she whispers to me loudly.

"No!" I gasp in shocked voice. This I have to hear. "What did she do?"

"She didn't let me wear my pink shoes with DIAMONDS on it!" She sounds still rather appalled by the incident and I work hard to keep my poker face. The whole room listens to our conversation with apparent interest. "And they are my prettiest shoes and I know Auntie Ali's new Jazz would have LOVED them." She lets out a dramatic sniff but does not quite manage to force real tears in her eyes.

"I'm sure he loves you anyway, sweetie," I say and steal a glance towards "Ali's new Jazz", who is nodding vigorously. "See? We all do. But tell me, what happened next? Did you choose your second favourite shoes?"

"No. I went to tell Daddy, 'cause he loves me and always does what I tell him to do," she states rather smugly. I can hear muffled laughter from around us, but choose to ignore them, for I can tell, that the story isn't quite over. "Well, did he?"

"No. Something's wrong with that man," she adds in such a precocious tone that I burst into laughter with the rest of the family. There is no way that Lily has come up with that kind of statement on her own, which only makes it so much more hilarious.

"You two should probably start watching your words around this little genius of yours," Jasper guffaws. Lilian has started to laugh too, and her giggle is absolutely infectious.

The dinner that follows isn't the most formal one, but certainly one of the funniest. The empty seat next to mine reminds me of the most important member of this family to me and oh - I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. And I know he would be ecstatic hearing about our gathering and that I have had a good time without him. He loves the way I love his family like my own. My parents got a divorce when I was less than a year old and my mum and I have never been too close. I lived with my father, who loved me fiercely in his own, subtle way and I know I'm all he has. I often wish that I wasn't. I lived couple of years with mum before high school, but it didn't work out very well. She was too used to her freedom and I didn't want to become more of a burden to her than I already was. Charlie's silent joy when I moved back to him was heart-breaking. Yes, I am definitely happy to have all this insane family around me. So why am I being so sentimental?

_I hated my ugly, yellow graduation gown. It was some consolation to see that it didn't really agree with anyone – except for the one person I tried desperately hide from. _He_ looked absolutely stunning, as always. _

_I had been trying to avoid Edward Cullen's company as much as possible after the Coke incident and so far I had been rather successful – it was only too easy, since we weren't exactly joined from the hip to begin with. I was still extremely ashamed and embarrassed about everything – no matter how often Angela reminded me that I hadn't really done anything, apart from shaking his hand and stuttering a little. But that _was_ the worst part! I had planned our first encounter in my head so many times and not one of those scenarios included stuttering, blushing or an awkwardness of any kind! I was utterly disappointed in myself, mostly because I had let my stupid infatuation so out of hand that I couldn't see the reality anymore. Edward Cullen and I were in a completely different leagues and I was simply one of the hundreds of girls who swooned after him._

_I'd heard that he wasn't dating Tanya anymore – apparently that was long over – but that didn't change a thing. He had plenty to choose from and he hadn't even recognized me at school. I was so angry to myself that I could have spat. I did, in fact, spit – just a tiny bit - right then and there, under the huge oak, in which shadow I was waiting for my friends. "Shitfuck," I uttered quietly. Nope. Didn't help._

"_Um, sorry," I heard from right behind me and I knew the voice immediately. Cue Edward freakin' Cullen whenever Bella needs to be thoroughly humiliated. Like now, for instance. I turned to face him, hoping against hope that he had missed my last sentiment. And the spit, obviously._

_No such luck._

"_Don't you like Sprite?" he asked and gestured towards all but forgotten can of soda in my left hand._

"_Yes. I mean no. I mean yes, but this particular can must be from some kind of foul batch or something..." I lied - badly, I might add. Lying was only one of my many missing skills._

_He didn't seem to mind, or maybe he really didn't notice._

"_Good to know. I hope this one is from a different batch," he said gravely, handing me another can. I could see his green eyes twinkle with amusement. The bastard was laughing at me! On the other hand, he also brought me a drink, which was kind of cute. I thought that I owed him truth – at least a small part of it._

"_Thanks. Actually, I spat because I was a little pissed off and thought that nobody saw me," I confessed._

"_I see. Was the 'shitfuck' also a part of that little burst of anger?"_

"_Yes. I don't usually like to swear." I thought for a second and then felt a need to elaborate. "But only because I'm not very good at it. As you can probably tell."_

_Edward looked very amused._

"_Actually, I think you are very creative. Not many of us would dare to use both 'shit' and 'fuck' in a single curse." When he swore, it sounded incredibly sexy. Why didn't it sound like that when I cursed?_

"_You are making fun of me," I accused and narrowed my eyes to disguise my blush._

_He raised his hands in mock surrender and tried to look repentant, not doing it very well. My attempt to look dignified and appalled was met with equal lack of success._

"_Perhaps. My apologies, dear lady. Your use of expletives would bring grown man to tears."_

"_Why do you talk like that?" I asked, suddenly intrigued. He looked confused._

"_Like how?"_

"_Like you were from a different decade or something?"_

"_I don't know. I suppose I understand what you mean, though." He seemed to really think about that for the first time. "Does it bother you?" he then asked, odd look on his face. _What does it matter to you ? _I nearly asked, but then thought better of it._

"_No. Just wondering. You don't really hear anyone speak like that anymore. At least not in Forks High."_

"_True. Although, you are not exactly one of the teen-queens either." I wasn't sure if I liked the sound of that, however true it might have been._

"_Yes, I guess I'm one of the nerds, if that's what you mean." My self-esteem didn't quite allow me say 'losers' in front of him, even though that was what the majority of school population most likely thought about me and my friends._

"_No, that's not what I meant. I mean that you follow your own path, even if you don't always know what it is." He didn't look like he was joking. It was scary. What was also quite scary was that I found talking to him little bit too easy. It was like breathing – effortless._

"_I suppose you're right."_

"_Of course. I usually am." He said it like the most obvious thing in the world. He was quiet for a second and then we both burst out laughing. "No, I mean it. It's annoying, but I am hardly ever wrong about my observations," he explained, still chuckling._

"_Your observations?"_

"_I like to watch people. It's a kind of creepy habit, I guess, but I have been doing it for as long as I can remember." He seemed to be considering his next words." Most of the people are very easy to read."_

"_Oh really, now?" And before I could stop myself I added: "You don't even see me at school – how do you manage to observe me, if you don't look at me?" As soon as the words left my mouth I wished they hadn't. Way to hide your crush from him, you moron!_

"_I can see you, Bella," he said in a very different tone. I was sure I'd heard him wrong._

"_Huh?"_

"_You said that I don't even look at you, but that's not true."_

"_It's not?" I was completely unprepared to the direction this conversation was heading._

"_No. But you're not easy to read at all. That's probably why I can't stop looking."_

_I didn't know what to say – and said nothing._

"_I find you quite intriguing, Bella."_

_The words that had been momentarily lost finally found their way out of mouth. "What does that mean?" _

_Now it was his turn to answer with silence. He just shrugged, smiling that infuriating, one-sided smile. Something snapped in me._

"_I don't understand you, Edward. At school you don't even say hi to me, and until two weeks ago, I was pretty sure that you didn't even know I existed. You have been ignoring me for four years. If you have been looking at me, you sure as hell have been quite subtle about it!" I didn't mean to sound so angry, and I wasn't – just incredibly frustrated. Edward, on the other hand, looked horrified._

"_I knew you existed, Bella! Well, maybe not all four years, but ever since you and Tanya started on same third period algebra. And I haven't ignored you – at least I haven't been meaning to! I just didn't know how to approach you and with Tanya it wouldn't have been very appropriate..." he trailed off._

"_How is simple 'hi' inappropriate?" I demanded, trying not to sound too accusatory._

"_It's not, but Tanya was already really uncomfortable with my weird habits – gauging at people and getting caught up in to other people's conversations – and I didn't want to make it even more hard on her." Edward looked me deep in the eye, as if willing me to understand. And I wanted to. The small, teenaged, self- conscious girl inside of me, though – she was still on the doubting side, and would be for a while, I could tell._

"_But you always look so...self-absorbed - I'm sorry, but you do! And I'm not being paranoid, my friends think so too!"_

"_Ouch – I guess I deserved that," he grimaced. "But haven't you noticed - people who don't seek public attention are often wrongly taken as either weirdoes or self-centred bastards?"_

"_Touché. But I do greet people even if they're not in my... inner circle of peers."_

"_True. And I apologise, I truly do. I'd like for us to be friends, Bella." Edward looked sincere._

"_Friends?" I blurted out, not thinking._

"_Yes. Unless your circle is already full. You know - your circle of peers."_

"_Fine. But you should know, friends don't make fun of each other."_

"_On the contrary, _mon ami_, that's exactly what friends do."_

I realize that I have absolutely no idea what the people around me are talking about. I pay intense attention on the conversations around me for the next several minutes and soon discover, that a) Jasper and Emmett have indeed met before – they lived at the same dorm in college, that b) Lily will have a fifth birthday party with a staggering theme "The Magic Kingdom of Disney Princesses" and that c) Carlisle is very fond of Esme's roasted duck – in fact, he thinks it's 'simply divine'. After tasting the food myself, I have to agree. Simply the fact that it doesn't make me want to puke makes me ready to sing its praise.

I catch Esme's grey gaze from across the table and smile at her. She mouths something at me and I find that it's exactly what I have been thinking: "I'm so happy."

"You are _so _not driving home tonight, Bella."

Esme and Alice have been trying to talk me to stay overnight in the "Cullen Mansion", and I have to admit, it does sound very tempting. Going back to an empty house after loud, cheerful family dinner, on the other hand – not so much.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?"

"No. I only have to email some files to my boss, but that's it." I let out a sigh of surrender. "Fine, I'll stay."

"Yesss!" Alice squeals. "You can sleep in Edward's old room and we can talk girly stuff before going to bed." Her enthusiasm is infectious and I have to tease her a little.

"So I'm not invited to stay in your room anymore? I see how it goes – once your friend finds a boyfriend, you are shoved aside like an old toy..."

"Oh, you're the one to talk, miss 'I-only-play-with-my-husband'!" Alice laughs in turn.

"Okay, girls," Esme says loudly before we get too much into our usual bantering. "I'm going to make Bella's bed. Alice, you should probably show Jasper the guest bathroom."

"Yes, please do," Jasper says from behind Alice's back where he has suddenly appeared. "Am I relieved from the 'girly stuff', or do you need me for that, darlin'?"

"No, you can go to my room and wait for me there. The guest bathroom is right across the corridor."

To my surprise Jasper immediately turns to where Alice's imperious finger is pointing and vanishes inside the bathroom without another word.

"You have managed to train him fairly well in such a short time," I point out to her.

"Oh, he just knows what's best for him," Alice says airily and links her arm with mine. "Come. Girl talk awaits."

We help Esme to make the bed and after she has bid us good night and gone, Alice attacks.

"SO," she says and pulls me to sit on the bed right next to her. "I need help."

I am stunned and therefore silent. Alice is the most self-sufficient person I have ever known. She has not had boyfriend before Jasper simply because she has not needed one – not because the lack of choice – and she usually gets what she wants by being annoyingly, amazingly persistent. I'm sure I would still be a single woman if Alice didn't approve of me as her brother's girlfriend in the first place. I may be stubborn, but Alice is more than that. She is a force of nature. Thus my stunned silence.

"Are you going to help me?" she demands when I remain mute.

"I-I would be happy to. Just tell me what to do, sweetie."

Alice seems to ponder her words – another first. She leans her elbows to her bent knees and stares straight ahead. I mimic her position and for a moment we just sit in friendly silence.

"I think I'm in love, Bella," she finally states. Her voice is unusually quiet and she seems almost fragile. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and she leans to my side.

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask gently when she utters a sad sigh.

"No! No." She still seems a little worried. "It's just...terrifying."

"I know."

"Do you really, Bella?" Alice looks at me and I can tell that she is dead serious. "I mean, you and Edward...you are so...alike. And it's like you didn't even have a life before him – and he didn't before you."

"Hey!" I'm slightly offended. "I did have a life – it just got better after I found your brother".

"But once you'd found each other it seemed so effortless – like you'd been just waiting for the other and all before that was just preparation for that." Alice doesn't even seem to hear me in the midst of her musings. And she isn't entirely wrong.

"You're completely useless without each other," she says and continues before I have a chance to protest. "And I'm so jealous! I wish it was that easy for me and Jasper, too!"

"Honey, I don't really know about easy..."

"But I'm not USED TO needing anyone!" she nearly shouts and makes me jump a little bit. "And I NEED Jazz – more than I have ever needed anything in my life! And it scares the hell out of me!"

And all of a sudden I can see the real problem, although I still don't have a clue how to help her. "Alice," I say and hug her gently, "It's scary because it's new to you. Have you talked to Jasper about this?"

"About being scared of him? No, somehow I think he wouldn't feel too awesome about that," she mutters to my shirt.

"Not him, but the feeling – you're scared of being in love, even though I can't see why, because clearly he is head over heels in to you too, missy!" Alice doesn't appreciate my laughter and is suddenly livid. She stands up and starts to pace back and forth on the floor in very un-Alice-like fashion.

"It's not the love _per say_, Bella, but being out of control – that is something I've never done before! And love –mine, his – is definitely something that I cannot control!"

I nod. I can understand why she is terrified.

"You have seen how I boss him around – and he lets me, because he knows me and probably sees through me – sees what a freak I really am! A freak who just HAS to be in control of something all the time!" Alice is nearly hyperventilating now and I can tell that a panic attack is well on its way.

"Alice, Alice, honey! Don't be silly!" Okay, wrong choice of words – now she is actually sobbing. "Honey, you have to, HAVE TO talk to him about this! You're right – he knows you and loves you and he would hate to see you beat yourself up like this."

"I can't!" she wails, but I can see that her defence is crumbling. It must be exhausting, to give up to your greatest fears. She is right, I and Edward definitely had it easier – we both gladly gave up our control where the other was concerned. Falling in Iove with him has been the single most liberating experience of my life – to finally give up all my pretences. I feel that I maybe should be little bit ashamed of how much I need him all the time, but can't be bothered. I know that he needs me just as much and is never ashamed to admit that.

We hear a knock on the door and worried-looking Jasper sticks his head inside. His eyes widen in alarm when he sees Alice as a sobbing mess in my arms. I try to communicate him with my own eyes that she is OK, but Jasper is already inside and reaches his arms for her.

"Maybe you should take her to bed," I suggest quietly. "You two have some things to talk about." When Jasper looks even more scared, I add, smiling a little: "Nothing bad, just...couple stuff."

Jasper lifts Alice swiftly to his arms and presses a soft kiss on her forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart. I've got you." He carries her tenderly to her bedroom and I walk to close the door behind Jasper. I turn back towards the room and let my gaze sweep over the familiar surfaces – the desk, the black leather sofa, and the book self with rows and rows of music and books, the fluffy bed and the ceilings of the lightest blue colour. I remember the nights of our teenage years, laying next to his sleeping form on this same bed, staring at the patterns of the roof and the blue of the walls, waiting for sleep to come. It was a rare occasion that Charlie let me to stay overnight at the Cullens, and it was always under the disguise of 'sleep-over with Alice'". I was usually too excited to sleep properly, thrilled by Edward's presence and trembling by his closeness. I have to smile when I remember my innocent desires at the beginning of our relationship: to kiss him, to sleep next to him, feeling his skin under my hand...which, of course, when fulfilled, only fuelled the not- so-innocent wants we both shared.

I am still smiling, when I slip under his sheets, which still, fresh from the laundry, smell like him, and for a moment, just before I fall to sleep, I am again the shy, self-conscious, 18-years-old Bella Swan who finds it impossible to believe that Edward-freakin'-Cullen is _in love_ with her.


	4. Heartfelt

_A/N: I want to thank you again for reading and adding me and my story to your alerts and favourites – I am so grateful for your support. Thank you for those who have left reviews – they mean a lot to me! _

_This is one monster of a chapter – twice as long as the earlier three – but I just wanted it all to fit and Bella just wouldn't shut up! Who knew that she was such a talker? _

_DISCLAIMER: I still do not own anything except for my laptop. Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. _

Heartfelt

I keep crossing and uncrossing my ankles and fiddle nervously with the hem of my sweater. The nurse behind the desk has been eyeing me pityingly since my arrival. I am the only woman without a partner at the waiting room and she must have figured that I am dealing with some undesired consequences of a one night stand. After all, I do still sometimes look like a teenage girl, especially when I'm anxious or scared. Edward finds it endearing, I find it mainly annoying. And since he is not here at the moment, I get more and more annoyed for the glances I get from the other occupants of the small waiting area.

Esme promised to come with me to the doctor's, but she has been stuck in the traffic and will most likely to miss the appointment altogether. I haven't told anyone else yet, so I'll just have to manage by myself.

I know that Edward is waiting anxiously to hear about my first appointment and is thrilled about the possibility of hearing the tiny heart for the first time. He has sounded very tired and somehow distracted over the phone for the last few days, but when I ask about it he just tells me that the training is getting to him. I have decided to record the heart beat and play it for him over the phone, just to hear the smile in his voice again. Of course, it is more than likely that it's still too early to hear anything – I'm only nine weeks along. I wonder if I can _will _the little heart to beat as loudly as possible, just for him.

"Isabella Cullen?" Young, black-haired woman calls from the door. Finally. I stand up on to my numb feet and follow her brisk steps inside the dimly lit room. "My name is Dr Emily Uley" she says and gives me a tight, professional smile. I feel oddly at ease here – at least she does not pity me, I'm just one of her patients.

"Please, change on this gown behind that screen on the corner over there and lie down on that bed once you're ready." She gives her instructions with stern but friendly tone and when I walk past her to behind the screen I can make out the shape of a small baby bump underneath her lab coat. It makes me feel even more relaxed. I give her a quick smile and go to change.

When I peel off my jeans and pull off my blue sweater I try to see if I have a bump of my own. It's hard to tell in the poor lighting and I didn't have any trouble getting in to my jeans this morning. My breasts feel fuller and sorer than before and apart from the nausea that is the only proof that something is really going on inside of my uterus. I sigh, a little disappointed. It would be nice to have some kind of visible sign of the baby – and that's when I remember where I am. Doctor's examination room. With a sonogram machine. Right.

Once I've figured out how to put on the rustling paper gown I walk from behind the screen with my bare feet, holding my old iPod in my other hand and try to hop on the examination table as gracefully as I'm able – which is not very.

I realize that the doctor has left the room while I have been changing and I can hear her talking right outside of it. Sure enough, right then she peeks in from the door with a phone on her ear and gives me an apologetic smile. "I'll be right with you. Please, make yourself comfortable," she says to me before she closes the door between us.

That is easier said than done - getting comfortable on a high, narrow and hard bed. At least the pillow is soft . I let out a long sigh and close my eyes.

_We are _friends_, I reminded myself, staring myself from the rear view mirror of my truck. This is _not_ a date. Friends can go to places together and hang out without any hidden agenda. Talking about friends and hidden agendas – turns out that Angela had really had one of her own, and its name was Ben Cheney. They were a couple now – a couple that had date nights and lover's quarrels and disgusting kissing sessions in public. I felt not a little betrayed by my two best friends, but couldn't really show it. I just wanted to be happy for them. I really did._

_And why, oh, why couldn't I have a grown-up body instead of this small, flat frame which could have belonged to a ten- year- old boy with its lack of feminine curves! No wonder Edward only wanted to be friends. Next Tanya I must have looked like...I didn't even want to think of how utterly different we were. _

_It had been two weeks since the graduation and the confusing encounter with Edward Cullen. I still hadn't managed to figure out if I was merely a big joke to him and his prankster of a brother – which I really wished wasn't the case - or if he really was interested to have a friendship with me. Friendship with' hello's and phone calls and shared interests – like with Angela and Ben before they became the Angela and Ben._

_Ang had found me from under that tree on the graduation with a stupid smile plastered on my lips and had demanded what was up with me. I had told her, we had squealed together like the couple of silly teenagers we were, and analyzed my conversation with Edward to pieces. In the end neither one of us were any wiser. Edward Cullen was an enigma, we agreed. And two days ago, after a week's torturing silence, he had called. _

"_Hi Bella, it's Edward."_

_I nearly dropped my cell from my fingers, as they were very slippery all of a sudden. I ran to my room and closed the door. Charlie was cleaning his gun at the kitchen table and glanced at me worriedly when I flew past him, stopping only to turn off the cooker before running upstairs._

"_Hi," I managed, breathlessly. I sat down on my bed with shaking legs and tried to sound cool. Casual. Only mildly interested._

"_I was just wondering...about that friend thing..."_

_Did he have regrets already? I panicked, not cool at all._

"_Yes?"I winced._

"_Have you been to that new coffee house in Port Angeles?" He asked very quickly and sounded oddly breathless himself._

"_No, but I would love to go."_

"_How about next Thursday at four? We could give this new friendship thing a go." His laughter was breathless, too._

"_Great!"I could barely hide my giddiness. "Should we meet in there or somewhere in Forks?"_

"_I would offer you a ride, but I've been having some car troubles recently...maybe we should meet at the coffee house."_

"_I could drive us there – I have a car!" I blurted out before I realized that the car I was referring to wasn't actually anything to boast about. Especially to Edward –shiny-Volvo-Cullen. It was red, rusty, loud and old - and very unstable. Not to mention that it ate gas like crazy and it windshield wipers had stopped working after our trip to movies three weeks ago. _

"_Yes, I seem to remember a certain red monster at the parking lot of Forks High" he laughed and I was too happy that he remembered at all to be too upset about _what_ he remembered."I am looking forward to driving that thing!"_

"_Who said that you will be driving?"_

"_I just did. Or do, right now. Please, please, my beautiful friend – may I have the great honour of driving your astonishing... vintage...vehicle? I promise to treat it with utmost respect."_

_I was too caught up to his well disguised compliment to answer anything else but a weak "yes, you may" and had a vague feeling that there was a phrase that could be used to describe situations like this._

_Ah, yes.' Flattery will get you everywhere.' _

_So, there I was - ready and waiting for him at three-forty-five on Thursday afternoon outside his home – a white, big house with large windows and a huge yard. It was more like a mansion. The Cullen Mansion, I chuckled to myself. It also had the biggest garage I had ever seen in my life, most likely full of expensive cars and such – and Edward wanted to drive in my 'vintage vehicle'. What a bizarre boy he was._

_I had finally decided to forget my only skirt and choose my best jeans and a blue sweater instead. I desperately wanted to look pretty or at least ok in his eyes, but had absolutely no clue as to how to achieve that kind of look. My long, dark hair hang in my back in messy tendrils, curling annoyingly at my temples – thank you, Forks, and the 80% humidity! – and I had on the faintest layer of mascara. I never used make up – I was too lazy for that – but again, that boy made me act all kinds of funny. I already regretted the mascara – my lashes got stuck together every time I blinked and I felt like I was cheating. Trying to downplay my plainness. Silly, I know._

_Suddenly I heard the door close from a distance and turned to face the house again. Edward strode towards my truck, reaching it with a few long steps and I hopped out to greet him._

"_Hi there," he smiled and I couldn't help but smile back._

"_Hi."_

"_You look pretty."_

_I blushed and tried to find out something smart to say._

"_Did you want to drive this thing?" I finally asked, after rather uncomfortable silence._

"_Yes, please," he said eagerly and I let him hop on to the driver seat and climbed on the passenger side myself. After a very embarrassing moment of telling him how to start the engine of my "red monster" he managed to get us on the road._

"_Wow," he commented wryly, rising his eyebrows. "You really can't speed on this – your dad must be thankful."_

"_It's fast enough for me. It takes me from A to B," I said, defensively. "And yes, it's rather impossible to get a speeding ticket with this. Probably one of the reasons dad bought me this."_

_We fell to silence then. He focused on trying to get every last horsepower out of my truck and I tried desperately to find something to say. Something smart and witty and funny._

"_Have you played 'twenty questions'?"_

"_Huh?" He gave me a confused look. I blushed, because that's what I do._

"_You know, we both have twenty questions to ask each other and the other has to answer them," I explained. He looked amused._

"_Sounds like fun. What do we do when we have asked and answered all the questions?"_

"_Then the game is over."_

"_How do we know who's the winner?"_

_I blinked. "The winner?"_

"_Yes – who wins the game. There's always a winner," he explained, like I had missed the most obvious detail._

"_Not in this game."_

"_So what's the point?" I was gathering myself for an annoyed answer, but then I saw his face and it was full of laughter, even focusing on the road ahead. Apparently he was making fun of me again. I sighed._

"_I'm sorry. " He didn't sound like it. "I want to play your game."_

"_No you don't. You are just trying to humour me." I pretended to sulk, secretly thrilled about our easy banter._

"_Why would I do that? You would still dislike me." Now he actually sounded half- serious._

"_I don't dislike you. You just annoy me."_

"_Again, I'm sorry. Can I start?"_

"_Yes."_

_Edward had the first question all ready. "Do you like me?"_

_Easy enough. "Yes."_

_He looked at me, waiting._

"_What?"_

"_Care to elaborate?" His look was intense. I completely lost myself in his green eyes for a moment before he cleared his throat. He was laughing again. "Never mind."_

_I flushed beet red and turned my face away from his. "I want to change my answer," I muttered angrily and it made him laugh even more._

"_You won't, though." He sounded smug. "Your turn."_

_I wanted to ask the same question as he had, but chickened out at the last minute. "Why do you always make fun of me?" Not that I don't love every second of it, I added silently._

"_I don't know." He seemed to really think about his answer. "I like to see you blush." And then _he _blushed. I was so bemused by his involuntary reaction that I forgot his actual answer. "You blush, too!" I rejoiced aloud._

"_No, I don't!" And then he blushed some more. I felt my heart swoon in my chest and felt a sudden urge - god forbid – to kiss him. I didn't. Instead I pondered what he had said – he liked to see me blush! However embarrassed and self-conscious that made me feel, it also gave me hope. He had blushed himself when he had said that, so it wasn't just teasing. He _liked _something about me._

"_Your favourite food?" Clearly he wanted to talk about something else._

"_Italian. Yours?"_

"_Cheese burgers. But you can't steal my question, that's not fair. What college are you going to go into?"_

_I couldn't believe I hadn't thought about that. About not seeing him for god knows how long. It seemed like the most significant question in the world now. For me, anyway._

"_Peninsula Community College. You?" Forget his stupid question-stealing rule. I had to know._

"_Dartmouth." He didn't meet my eyes. _

"_Why Dartmouth?"_

"_I want to be a doctor." He glanced at me and focused to the road again. "Do you just want coffee or would you like to have something to eat?"_

_His abrupt change of subject threw me out of balance for a moment. "What? Why?"_

_Edward pointed out of the window with one of his slender fingers. There was a warmly lit wooden building with a neon sign on top that said _La Bella Italia_ – _Ristorante Italiano_. Then he looked at me and now he was actually smiling. "I seem to recall somebody enjoying Italian food..."_

_I had to laugh. "Now that you point it out – I am a bit hungry."_

_He parked outside the restaurant and hopped out. I bent to pick up my purse from the floor, and when I sat up he had opened the passenger side door for me and was offering his hand for my assistance._

"_Why, a gentleman – who would have known?" I smirked._

"_My mother taught me well," he said proudly and gave me a slight bow. "Just you wait, milady." Then he took my hand and held it while I stepped out of the truck and then a little while longer. I bit my lip and blushed._

_He laughed and released my fingers, but left his right hand to hover over the small of my back._

"_See? There's much more pleasant ways to make me blush than annoying me to death."_

_He laughed again and led me inside the restaurant, his hand still in its place over my back, not quite touching. _

_The waitress who showed us to our table at the furthest corner of the restaurant had a nametag that said "Megan". And Megan started to shamelessly flirt with my friend as soon as she laid eyes on him. Not that I cared. Not that Edward was particularly responsive. His rather cold "thank you" when she gestured towards our seats made me feel a bit smug. I mean, the girl had completely ignored me after throwing me one head-to-toe –glance. I wasn't Edward's girlfriend or anything, but her behaviour was inappropriate nonetheless. No tips from me, then._

_Once Megan has left us alone Edward handed me a menu and opened one himself. "Sorry about that," he said quietly._

"_About what?"_

"_The waitress – she was quite..."he suddenly cleared his throat and instead of finishing his sentence he just rolled his eyes._

"_Forward?" I offered. _

"_You could say that."_

"_She was pretty, too." I wanted to bit my tongue after saying that. Why did I already sound like a jealous girlfriend? "Have you decided already – about the food?" My change of subject was about as subtle as his earlier._

_He didn't answer at first. Then he peeked at me over his menu and I saw seriousness in the green depths of his eyes. "I didn't look." I knew he didn't talk about the menu now. I dropped my eyes and gazed intently the table and followed the patterns of the linen table cloth._

"_My interest laid elsewhere." Again, he was using that weird, out-of-fashion way of speech. Maybe he did that when he was feeling awkward. And how was I supposed to answer that?_

"_Oh." Wow, now that was a great response._

_He smiled at me, the crooked grin a little shy and the long, dark eyelashes sweeping his high cheekbones. He was unbelievably beautiful in the most masculine way possible._

_Megan chose that moment to come back and I noticed that she had opened two more buttons of her already low cut top. There was a word that could be used about the look she achieved with that, but it was very unladylike. I stole a glance towards Edward. He was looking her, waiting politely for her to speak._

"_Anything to drink?" she breathed with a ridiculously throaty voice. Again, she ignored me completely._

_Edward, on the other hand, did not. "Bella?" His voice was velvety soft and his smile left me breathless._

"_Coke, please," I managed, blushing and his smile grew even wider, with a hint of mischief in it. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me._

"_Same to me," he said without moving his eyes from mine. I heard the waitress sift on her feet restlessly and trying to get his attention._

"_Any appetizers?" she said loudly, still not managing to break our staring contest._

"_No, thanks. Mushroom ravioli to us both, please." Edward's voice was clipped and, oh – my – god! –he _still _didn't move his eyes. I was starting to get light-headed and I had to mentally remind myself to breath._

_I heard Megan to leave and when we were alone again, Edward finally threw his head back and laughed out loud. "That was FUN!"_

"_I don't know. And thanks for letting me decide, by the way." I sounded a little bit more exasperated than I actually was._

"_I'm sorry. You can order something else, if you want. I just wanted the girl to leave us alone." Aaand – cue the crooked smile._

"_I'm OK. I'll take whatever it is that you ordered."_

"_You can choose the dessert," he offered._

"_Deal." I really didn't mind in the slightest. Firstly, Edward had done that to spend more time alone with me, and secondly, I actually did like ravioli._

_The rest of the meal went with similar fashion – Megan popping to our table every now and then and Edward ignoring her rather rudely by acting like lovesick fool and staring to my eyes intently whenever she tried to get his attention. I was a little hurt when I realized that this was really nothing more than an act – but I enjoyed participating to it too much to wallow in details. We continued to play 'twenty questions' and stayed within the comfortable friend zone. Somehow it still felt like flirting._

"_Have you had any or do you currently have any pets?" was his question number twelve. We had just finished our raviolis and were about to start the dessert. I had decided to order strawberry ice cream – to us both. I felt nice and relaxed, and leaned back in my chair, sighing in contentment. Edward stared at me curiously and it took a moment before I realized that he was actually still waiting for an answer to his question._

"_I once had a gold fish named Mr Darcy. Sadly, it passed away prematurely due to...erm...starvation." _

_Edward snorted and as a result, the previously drunk Coke splintered out of his nostrils like from a Greek nose -shaped fountain. Most of the soda ended to the table cloth and to his plate, but approximately one-third of it landed on my blue blouse. He looked absolutely mortified, but because I just couldn't contain my laughter he soon started to look a little amused, too. I was nearly falling off my seat and held desperately my stomach which contracted with the bursts of laughter._

"_Oh my god – that was the funniest thing I have seen in a while!" I howled, trying to regain my composure with poor success. His face had been priceless._

"_I'm not sure if I appreciate your sense of humour at the moment," he grumbled, but then chuckled a little." I suppose I had it coming," he admitted._

"_You SO had it coming, mister!" I wiped my eyes, which had been tearing up. "Let's just hope Megan saw that – it might have solved all your problems real nicely!"_

_Turns out, Megan, in fact, had seen the whole incident, but it didn't seem to have had desired effect on her. When we asked for a check, she brought us a classy leather folder which contained the check – and a paper slip with a phone number in it. Most likely hers. Edward just slipped a fifty in the folder without casting another look inside and handed it back to her. I didn't have a chance to see her reaction as he was already ushering me out of the restaurant and to my truck in an apparent haste._

"_What is it?" I asked him when he stopped at the passenger side door. He didn't answer, but his eyes seemed to suddenly be glued on to the front of my shirt. I flushed to the colour of fire engine in a matter of seconds and couldn't find anything to say. His expression was unreadable._

"_Your blouse...I ruined it again," he finally whispered, his eyes still at my...chest. I opened my mouth to say something – anything – but only sound I could make was "Oh." It seemed to do the trick. Edward startled, his eyes sprung alive and when they met mine, he blushed. And like the last time, it had the most intense response in me: I wanted to kiss him. He wasn't having it._

"_S-Sorry!" he stuttered, looking utterly embarrassed. I guess you can't fight you inner gentleman forever. What a shame. "I didn't mean to...I mean...I'm sorry! I can't believe I did that again!" _

"_Don't worry about it," I said, because I didn't know what else to say. The only thing I could think of was "I don't mind – please kiss me!" and that was hardly appropriate at the moment._

"_I guess you don't have an extra blouse with you..." he said and looked anxious and so, so endearing._

"_No, but it might be a good idea to start carrying one with me if we are continuing to be friends," I said and was happy to see his smile._

"_Do you still want to be friends with me?" he asked me when I opened the passenger door. Again, I had several answers all ready, but none of them could actually be used at the early state of friendship._

"_I don't know – I may run out of clean clothes."_

"_Please. I will buy you as many shirts as you need. And I think you look pretty, no matter what." And there was that blush again, on both of us faces._

"_Sure. Flattery will get you everywhere."_

"I am so sorry about that!" Dr Uley's apologies wake me from my day dreaming. I just smile at her, still trying desperately to cling on the image of my 18-years-old Edward. He hasn't changed at all.

"So – you think you're pregnant."Doctor's voice finally forces me back to present and I try to focus on answering her questions. It's like that game again – only I get to just answer, not ask.

"I would like to do a sonogram - although it might be still too early to hear anything." Dr Uley has switched the machine on and its monotonous humming fills the room.

"Now, according to the test you've taken and all the symptoms you have described, it really looks like you are pregnant, but only the ultrasound and the blood tests will confirm that." She spreads some gel on the funny shaped probe that is connected to the sonogram and after covering my lower half with a sheet she asks me to lift my gown. This is it. I start to shiver and bite furiously my lip, trying to calm down. I know the odds, but still – I can't help but pray for even a little sound.

"Mrs. Cullen – there is nothing to be afraid of." Dr Emily takes my hand and squeezes it. "I am sorry that you have to be here alone, but I need you to calm down."

No. Again that pity. I can't take it. I havea _husband_, for crying out loud – this child has a father! A devoted and loving father, who, even absent, is more than many of the kids nowadays have.

"Dr Uley – I came alone, because the father - my husband - was unable to make it here today and because my mother-in-law was stuck in the traffic on her way here." Only a slight wavering of my voice gives away my emotions. But pity – I will not have that. I don't need that.

"I'm sorry – is your husband's name Edward, by any chance?" The doctor suddenly asks and takes a closer look at my notes.

"Yes – Edward Cullen –why?" Do _all _the doctors know each other?

"Oh, I think I went to medical school with him. I believe you two were already married?"

"Yes. We married right after graduating from college. So you have met him, then, Dr Uley?"

She smiles at me, a real, friendly smile this time."He was my lab partner the first three years of med! And, please, call me Emily. It feels like I've known you for a long time already – he could never stop talking about you!"

I have to smile back, even though I'm still a little shaken. How come Edward has never mentioned Emily? I know several of his med school friends, but have never heard about Emily.

"Does he still have that wild, reddish hair?"

"Bronze, actually. And yes, he does." I don't know why that particular description makes that much difference to me.

"The girls used to go crazy about that hair!" Then she seems to remember who she is talking to. "Not that it had any effect on him, obviously."

After that we don't talk much. She presses the paw-like transducer on my belly and moves it around. And then we listen. And listen. And listen some more. I can't hear anything.

"Look!" Emily says suddenly. "There it is – your baby!" And I nearly fall off the table in my haste to see it. In the middle of greyish mush and things I'd rather not know anything about I see a tiny, bean shaped figure. If Emily didn't point it with her finger I would miss it completely.

"My baby." My whisper sounds hoarse.

"Would you like to have a picture? I can give you a CD, so you can email it to your friends."

"Why can't I hear anything?" I try not to sound too disappointed – even though I'm nearly heartbroken.

"It's still too early, Bella." Emily's calmness is comforting. "I will book you another appointment two weeks from this. But I have to remind you that sometimes the heartbeat can't be heard before the 16th week of pregnancy."

I nod, still not trusting my voice.

Emily makes some measurements from the screen and goes through by my notes. "Right. Considering the size of the foetus and looking at your last menstrual cycle it seems that you are at week 9+2. That means that your due date should be the 31st of August this year."

How funny. That's our wedding anniversary. I remain silent.

"Do you think Edward will be able to come to your next appointment?"

"No."

Emily looks at me, confused, and I have to tell her.

"He is going to Iraq. He is at the preparation camp in Louisiana at the moment."

Emily looks absolutely horrified. "To Iraq?" And then something dawns to her. "Of course! He always talked about that – volunteering. Is it that Doctors Without Borders – thing?"

"No. He wanted to go to Iraq or Afghanistan to put his specialty in use, but MSF does not operate there anymore. US Army had a recruit campaign at Seattle last fall and Edward left his application. They offered him this special six months contract if he was able to sign it on the spot."

"Only six months?"

"Yes. They needed medical staff there urgently and were ready for basically any kind of agreement. I think Edward's experience with amputations and shot wounds at various ERs was also a significant factor."

"Wow. He never struck me as a military kind of guy..."

"He isn't. He mainly does it just to gain valuable professional experience. " I laugh softly. "I think he's actually a pacifist. And very ambitious about his work."

"Clearly. He was the top of nearly every class in med school, as far as I can remember. Quite annoying, at times, I'm not going to lie." We both laugh at that. There's no denying the fact that the love of my life is a perfectionist in everything he sets his mind into.

"I'm so sorry, Bella, for my wrong assumptions," Emily sounds sincere and has apparently slipped to a less formal addressing without even noticing. "And let me just say – I think you are being quite amazing about it. If my husband couldn't be here for me now "- she gestures at her own swollen belly – "I wouldn't be able to take it so well."

"Thanks." I really don't know what to say. I know I haven't taken it that well at all. I'm just good at hiding it. Maybe that's what she means, though – maybe it is not about thinking or reacting certain way. Maybe it's about how you show it. All about appearances.

"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to take your blood-pressure and some other measurements. You told me that you have suffered from nausea?" And just like that, Emily is back in the doctor mode.

I hear the telephone from outside the front door. I quickly unlock the door and run to answer it, knowing beyond doubt who the caller is.

"Hello?" I gasp, still breathless.

"Bella?" his voice is worried. "Are you all right, sweetheart? You sound a little out of breath."

"Edward! Oh, I'm fine, now." I wait for his laugh, but it doesn't come. He is very silent, in fact.

"What is it?"

"Bella, we are leaving." That is all that is said for a long moment. He is waiting for my response and I – I am having an odd, out-of-body –experience. I am trying to remember how to exhale, but all I can manage is the series of gasps.

No. This will not do. I will myself to take a deep breath. I knew this was coming – maybe not this soon, but still – this was given.

"Love? Are you still here? Bella? Bella!" Edward's frantic calls pull me back from my inner turmoil, if only momentarily.

"I'm okay. Just...surprised." I sit down on the bench next to our telephone, because my legs are still shaking. "When?"

"In two days."

"IN TWO DAYS?!" I have risen to my feet again and have to grasp the edge of the table to balance myself. "Are you kidding me, Edward?"

"Sweetheart, you knew this could happen," he says on the other end, sounding oddly tired. My poor man – I have not been very supportive wife recently. He needs to hear that I am behind him, still.

"I know – I'm sorry! It's just...I just came from the doctor's appointment and..."

"Oh, right – how did that go?"

"I have a picture for you – I will email it to you tonight. It's of our baby."

"And the heartbeat?"

The shy hope in his voice is the last straw – I lose it, suddenly and completely. I can't even fight the tears anymore – hell, I don't even want to.

"No," I sob madly. "It was still too early. And my belly is still all flat and the baby looks like a cashew nut and I was there all alo-o-o-one!" The rest of it is unintelligent wailing and I'm bawling like a five-year-old – loudly and uncontrollably.

"Honey! Darling! My love!" In any other situations Edward's frantic use of every single endearment he can come up with would make me laugh, but now it only makes me cry even more. If possible.

"Bella, my sweet darling, please don't cry! I didn't want to make you feel bad...please don't cry!"

Yeah, well, too late now, buddy. The gates are opened and can't be closed that easily. All the bottled up sorrow and longing and need multiplied with raging pregnancy hormones – Edward is going to need his whole arsenal of love and medical training to make me calm down.

"And everybody thought I was a single mom or some knocked-up chick and they all pitied me – and I miss you so mu-u-u-uch!"

"Bella-".

"And now you are leaving and I don't know when or IF I'm ever going to see you again! And I need you so mu-u-u-u-uch!"

"I miss you too, I do, but sweetheart , now I really need you to take a deep breath." He has finally found his inner doctor and uses his most stern voice to rein his hysterical wife. I take a breath as deep as I can, trying to ignore the sobs that are threatening to rise from my throat.

"That's my girl. Now, keep breathing like that – nice and slow." I do as he says and finally my sobs settle down and I feel I might be able to form coherent words.

"Oh my god, Edward! I'm so sorry! I don't know what's gotten in me – I'm crying like a baby these days." I wipe my tears of and blow my nose to a Kleenex I find from my pocket.

"Don't worry about it." Edward has yet to return to the husband mode and his voice sounds almost professional. I hate myself. No tears or big words, right?

"How are you feeling?" I ask, almost timidly. "About the leaving? Are you...are you afraid?"

"No, I don't think so – I guess it's hard to feel anything yet...it doesn't feel real when we are still here." His voice is still too calm and cool.

"I'm...I'm so proud of you, Edward," I whisper. Words seem inadequate. "I know I have been awful and not at all supportive, but I am proud of you, I want you to know that. And I love you like crazy."

"I know that. But Bella, the thing is...you asked me to go."

I can't find words. There are no words to erase my earlier, horribly insensitive reaction. And I want to say something. _Anything._

"I wanted to stay when you told me about the baby – I didn't want to leave you." His words cut like a blade and I am desperately looking for something that would make this better.

"I know. I'm so sorry." That seems to be the only thing I'm able to say and I'm repeating it like a broken record.

"I know you are, sweetheart, but hearing you like this...so upset...it makes me feel like...like hell. And I can't go if I can't be absolutely positive that you will be okay. That you will not fill your days by missing and fretting over me."

"Edward..."

"I will call you tomorrow. I can't tell you where we are going to go exactly, but I will have an Internet access there too and we will be able to talk via satellite phones and use Skype – you know where the headphones are, right?"

"Yes."

"And you send me that picture of our baby and think only happy thoughts from now on, okay?"

I know that I can't really promise that, but his silent, exhausted, un-Edward-like voice doesn't leave me a choice. "'Kay."

"I love you, sweetheart. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Love you, too." And then he ends the call and I crumble to the floor, to a one, trembling heap of regret and self-loath and hurt.


	5. Berceuse

_A/N: I am so sorry for the wait – this chapter didn't seriously want to be written. I am still not sure if I'm happy with it, but here you have it. Next chapter will be better, promise. I also try to be quicker this time._

_Thanks for all the reviewers and those who have put me or this story on to their alerts – I feel truly honoured._

_This chappy is from BPOV, but you'll have an EPOV chapter or two in the near future._

_Enjoy._

Berceuse

I wake up very groggy on the next morning, after not much sleep at all. I did try to sleep – sweet dreams would have been more than welcome after the rather eventful day I had – but I managed to doze off for only couple of hours. I sent the file with the ultrasound pictures to Edward's email address when I finally got myself up from the floor. Remorse nearly crushing me I tried to find something to write to his message and finally ended up with a lame:

**E,**

**Here's our baby – looks like i'm gonna spend our anniversary in labour. Hope you don't mind.**

**Love,**

**B**

**p.s. she has your strong chin.**

When I pass the computer on my way to bathroom I see the message sign blinking. I guess I forgot to shut the PC down before going to bed. I take my sweet time with my morning routines – pee, shower, brush my teeth, throw up, brush my teeth again sans the tooth paste. When I finally emerge from the bathroom, still groggy but feeling fresher, I see that I have gotten a text as well. It's from Alice.

**Ready4shopping? Meet u 12. xxAl**

I can't possibly have planned anything productive for today! I groan aloud when I recall indeed agreeing for a shopping spree earlier this week – apparently new boyfriend means whole new wardrobe. I can't really see my own appeal as a fashion advisor. Alice knows exactly what she wants and her taste is not at all like mine. Still – I always somehow end up having fun with her.

**U bet. Have my full combat gear on already. Luv ya. B.**

Alice's answer is a single smiley.

It's only 9 am. I feel tired but not sleepy, I'm having a slight headache and don't even want to think about eating anything else than a dry slice of toast. I sit down behind the desk and open the internet browser. E-mail alert is still on, and from my Inbox I find a message from Edward. Sent exactly seven minutes after my mail to him.

**Sweetheart,**

**Even though I know there isn't anything I can do to erase my cruel words from earlier tonight, I want you to know that I regret them deeply. I know I hurt you and for that I cannot forgive myself. You have as much right to be frightened and upset as I do and I don't ever want you to be afraid to tell me how you feel.**

**Often when you know somebody better than yourself it makes you think that words aren't necessary, that you will s**_**ense**_**what the other wants and needs. We NEED words, Bella. You have to tell me what you feel, because I am often wrong with my assumptions and don't always know what you need. Please, don't be afraid of upsetting me.**

**I also need you support, you know that. There have been moments when I have asked myself what the hell I am doing here when all I truly care about is at home – and then I remember that the one who I care the most wants me here. Sometimes I hate that, but mostly I'm thankful that you made me do this. You are so selfless that it amazes me. You make me chase my own dreams and be the person I want to be. I just didn't know it would be that hard. I need you to show me that it's worth it.**

**I miss you. You have probably come to notice that it is so different to miss somebody when you know for certain that he or she is going to be back soon and when you...don't. I was crushed when I heard that we are not allowed to have furloughs – I was really looking forward to them, as were you. I very nearly gave up then. But you wanted me to carry on and I'm so thankful you did.**

**I still struggle to understand how lucky I am to have you. I am still as baffled as I was the first time I learned that you love me, because the only thing that tops loving you is you loving me. Cheesy. I know. But also true. **

**I love the child that we have created together; I love it because it's ours. It is going to be the most beautiful child in the world, because it has your genes and you are a masterpiece, Sweetheart. I can't wait to see your belly and, well – the rest of you. You have made me quite curious to see all the "changes" in you. I bet you look gorgeous. You always do.**

**I want you to remember all this, and when is the time for our next phone fight – for we will have those, because you're as stubborn as the day is long and I just have to be right all the time – I want you to read this message again and know that I still love you like a crazy person and that will never change. **

**I'll call you again tomorrow and you can be just as emotional and hysterical and hormonal as you please. I will take it and cherish it. It's my husbandly duty.**

**I love you.**

**Yours,**

**E**

**P.S. He's a real charmer. I bet he gets that from you.**

Yep. Cheesy.

Apparently sappiness works for me, because I'm weeping before I've finished the first paragraph of his virtual love letter. Edward has always had the tendency to go extremes – and when his feelings for me are concerned, he often goes overboard. I love him for that. Coming from a background where hugs and kisses were sparse and given awkwardly – if not less sincerely – it has taken some time to get used to the Cullens' open emotional display. Edward being the most extreme with that too. His fierce declarations of love have somewhat managed to heal me from my worst insecurities. Even after last night I did not have any doubts about his love. I think that was what makes me feel so bad - that I had made him sound that tired and resigned - yet I was the one forcing him to leave when he offered to stay.

His words were hurtful because they were true. And now I know that he needs me to make him do this and what I said yesterday, the way I acted – it was the exact opposite of supportive. That cannot happen again.

I get to my feet and shut down the computer. I suddenly remember that I have yet to notify my boss about my pregnancy. It shouldn't be a problem – as a book editor I can work from home and that means I also can work until the very end. I decide to wait a little while longer – until I have heard the heart beat and am past the most critical time. I decide to visit the office tomorrow and bring as much work home as possible so don't have to spend time in my tiny cubicle more than absolutely necessary.

And then I realize that at some point I have to tell my parents, too. Dad won't be a problem – he's happy if I am – it's my Mom I worry about. She has some really strange issues with her age and has said several times that she's too young to be a granny. Altruism isn't really my Mother's thing. I'm sure she will be happy for me eventually – once she is convinced that her new status as a grandparent won't have effect on her appeal to single men. She is married – and quite happily, too – but needs constant reassurance from the opposite sex that she is still desirable and beautiful. I blame her low self-esteem caused by numerous unsuccessful relationships and being left too many times. My Mom claims she is just "re-living her youth".

I also want to talk to Angela. I haven't seen her for the longest time. She is a happy mother of six-years-old twins and lives with them and her husband Ben in Seattle. She is still one of my best friends and it feels right to share my own secret with her. That's what we used to do at high school, too. She has the wonderful and rare ability to listen without the need to constantly offer her own insight or advice, but being able to provide some when required. I grab my cell phone and go downstairs to make the call.

"Hi, Ang!" I say when she answers, shouting her "hi" over the blood-curling screaming on the background.

"Oh, Bells – do you mind if I call you back later today? I'm dealing with a minor catastrophe here at the moment."

"Oh – sure. You alright?"

"Yep, just one bleeding son and one husband who faints when he sees blood – I'M COMING!! NICK, GIVE YOUR BROTHER A TOWEL OR SOMETHING, FOR GOD'S SAKE - NOW!!" I have to pull the phone back from my ear to prevent going deaf. Wow, who knew that our timid Angela has such a big voice when need arises? I yell my goodbyes to her and end the call – clearly we are not going to have our big heart- to- heart right now.

I flop down on our comfy living room sofa, planning to take a nap when my cell rings. On display there is the one name I didn't expect to see there for a while.

"Edward?"

"Hello, Love."

"Edward! What are you doing? It's only just morning!"

"I know. I just wanted to talk to my lovely wife before leaving the country for six months. Do you think she would be available?"

I feel my lips stretch to a wide smile and my cheeks flush.

"Maybe for a minute. She is a very busy lady, you know."

"Oh, I know. I also know that she has quite regular appointments with our toilet seat and kitchen sink. She wants to see what her food looks like half-digested -"

"Ew, Edward!"I laugh, scrunching my nose. "That's disgusting! And also all your damn fault for impregnating me!"

"True," he says and joins in my laugh. The huge ice block that has wrapped itself around my heart the night before starts to melt away immediately. Neither of us is any good when it comes to holding grudges, and I have never been happier about that.

"I'm so sorry about yesterday," I tell him when our laughter quiets down. "I don't know what got in me..."

"Sweetheart, did you get my email?"

"Yes..."

"Then you should know that you have nothing to apologise for." His voice is calm, but today I can hear the familiar warmth and tenderness in it. My Edward is back.

"Yes, but I feel so awful..."

"Don't. We both were upset – and for a reason – but I want us to get past it."

"Ok. And, just for the record, I still like you, even though you called me hysterical."

"Honey, you_ were_ hysterical."

"Was not!"

"I am the one with the medical degree here and I say that you went absolutely, over-the-top bonkers last night. Like a mad woman."

"Listen, mister," I start with my most stern and wifely voice, "If you already weren't doomed for six months worth of abstinence, I would doom you to it right now! But, as it is, I am only going to pout and not talk dirty to you ever again." I nod for emphasis, as if he could see me.

"Good. I love it when you pout – it's unbelievably sexy. You don't have to talk at all, if you don't want to. And who said anything about abstinence? I have two functioning hands and a very vivid imagination filled with pictures of you pouting and not talking dirty..."

"O-KAY! I think I know where this conversation is heading. And I wouldn't mind heading there with you-" I laugh when I hear his groan "- but I just said I wouldn't."

"What are you wearing?" He asks with his most coy voice and I can almost see him wiggle his eyebrows lasciviously.

"Edward!"

"Throw man a bone here – I need something to hold on to before stepping on that plane!"

Right. He is leaving today. To Iraq. To the middle of a warzone. I swallow and momentarily forget what we were talking about.

"Bella?"

"Yeah. I'm here," I say and add as cheerfully as I'm able:"I'm wearing my black lingerie set with stockings and heels, oh, and a corset and -"

"Bella, you don't own a single black lingerie set and you never, ever wear heels."

"I might. And you can't see me, so I can tell you anything I want and you can just go ahead and picture it in your head."

"I really prefer you in blue..."

"Good, 'cause I'm actually wearing my favourite sweatpants and your BLUE t-shirt."

There's a moments silence and then a quiet groan. A very different groan from the earlier one. It sounds little broken.

"God, I miss you, Bella."

Yes, we say that a lot. Each time puts more emphasis in it. After every single morning I wake up without finding his warm body pressed against my side or spooned behind me or sprawled over the bed and before every night I go to sleep without a kiss and caress from him and without making love to him that simple expression holds more and more meaning.

"It's only six months, Edward," I say more to myself than to him, and I'm sure neither of us finds any consolation what so ever from it. It's _half a year_ without kisses, touches, morning-quickies, shower-sex, movie night snuggles on the sofa, comfortable silences over breakfast - and seeing each other. And we both also know that if things get really bad, those six months can turn to a forever.

"Six months and then – never again. When I get back to you I'll never leave you again," he promises hoarsely.

"You know," I say with my most chirpy voice. "I think this might do some good for us, too. I mean, we have never been apart after getting together."

"Yes – for a reason. We are absolutely useless apart," he laughs.

"Hey, that's what Alice said, too."

"She has a point. If I wasn't having this strictly structured schedule to go by every day, I would be doing nothing but brooding after you."

"I know," I sigh. "And as I do not have a schedule, I really only do the brooding thing. And, of course, the throwing up thing."

"I don't want you to be like that," he says worriedly. "Go and do some baby-stuff shopping with Alice – she will take your mind elsewhere."

"Alice would love that. She still thinks that my hate for shopping can actually be cured."

"So call her. And you need new bras, too. Please don't hesitate to spend on them –or any other undergarment you may need. You can even use my Amex."

"Wow. You are awfully supporting husband."

"Anything for my lady. And I like blue."

"Wrong. You like blue _on me_."

"Mmmhmm."

"By the way, Alice doesn't know yet – don't you think that buying baby stuff and maternity lingerie would be kind of a giveaway?"

"So tell her. I'm sure she will be thrilled."

I ponder that for a moment.

"Do you really think I should tell her?"

"Yes, absolutely, whenever you're ready. If I can't be there for you, somebody has to. I won't allow you to try and cope with this alone. You can tell as many people as you want to."

"Okay...if that's what you want. I'll tell her. Will you call me before you leave?"

Again, brief, heavy silence.

"Bella, that's the thing – we are leaving in few hours. This is the last chance I get. That's why they let us use our own cells – so we could talk in private."

"But – but-", I manage to get hold on to myself before losing it again. "I – I didn't know..."

"Sweetie, I know that you wanted our last phone call to be about something important, but please, this is _so_ important to me!" He sounds like he means it.

"This is important?"

"It is. You and I talking about trivial things just like any other day."

"But-"

"Bella, this is not a goodbye." He sounds almost angry.

I have made it this far without a single tear, which is, I think, my new personal record, but I won't make it any further.

"I love you," I choke for the millionth time. "Call me as soon as..."

"I will not be able to contact you very often or very regularly, as you know. But I will do my best. And keep an eye on your email and keep your cell with you at all times."

"I love you." That's really all I can manage.

"You, too, my Bella. More than anything."

And when I don't answer, he says gently: "I'll talk to you soon."

And that's it. The call ends and I try to remember how to breathe, even though I don't want to and try not to choke on my sobs. Hell, maybe I'm hysterical – that's why I married a doctor.

I lie down on the sofa and curl on to a ball. I close my eyes and let the misery take me, just for a moment.

_After the non-date in Port Angeles things were weird for a while. He called nearly every day, but never asked to see me and I was too self-conscious to ask him myself. We talked about movies and books and music – he could go on and on forever about anything that was even remotely related to music. I learned that he played piano and liked to write songs himself._

"_What kind of songs?" I had asked. "Is it like classical music or..."_

"_It depends," he had told me. "Anything that can be played with piano."_

"_But anything can be played with piano."_

"_Exactly." And that was all he was willing to tell me. It made me insanely curious to hear him actually play his own music. I was also irrationally mad at myself being so ignorant about the one thing he was so passionate about. I liked listening to music - any music, really – but had never had any favourites or enough interest to form my own opinions about artists or composers. And I wanted to see him again, so badly, but there was no way to tell him that without sounding utterly weird and obsessed._

_We. Are. Just. Friends._

_I was nearly losing my mind. I knew that I only had this summer with him and after that everything would most likely be over – he would be so busy with his studying that our little companionship would not fit into his schedule and I'd just have to deal with that. I enjoyed our conversations immensely and he laughed more with me than I had ever seen him laugh with anyone – and I had been watching him intently for afar for a long time. Still, the more I got to know him, the more I agonized over our impending separation. _

_It had been almost two weeks since our trip to Port Angeles and I had almost given up any hopes of deepening our friendship. I was returning from the supermarket and eager to get to home. Charlie was on all-weekend-fishing-trip in La Push, a rather large Reservation close to Forks. His long time best friend Billy lived in Rez and had a pleasant habit of dragging my hermit of a dad outside our house every once in a while to fishing or hunting. Pretty good from a man in a wheelchair, if you ask me._

_I had a house for myself and big plans to try my hand in the Mexican style cooking and to clean our home from floor to ceiling. I left the parking lot as fast as my truck allowed when I abruptly stopped. Not because I had planned to, but because my beloved red monster _died _– right there, in the middle of a very busy driveway. Luckily the driveway was also very wide so other cars could easily pass me on their way to the parking lot, but I felt humiliated nonetheless. I could already see those "ah, woman –I should've known" looks I got from the other (male )drivers._

_I quickly went through my options – not that there were many. Dad was currently quite literally wading away somewhere in the Queets River with Billy. Billy's son Jacob had a car but he didn't have a licence yet, not that it stopped him from violating all traffic laws inside the sheltering boundaries of La Push. Angela was out of town visiting her aunt. And that was it. I was officially stuck. I heard my phone ring and groaned when I saw an Unknown Caller flashing on the display. Annoyingly persistent telemarketer was so not what I needed right now._

"_What?" I asked in my rudest voice. I planned to cut this conversation short._

"_Hi," a high, timid voice said. "Is this Bella?"_

"_Yes. And I'm not buying anything, thank you very much."_

"_Really? Why? Because I loooove shopping," said the girl in the other end, sounding much more enthusiastic than before. "I mean - it's so much fun!"_

"_Um...who are you?"_

"_Oh, right – I'm Alice Cullen. Edward's sister."_

_My head was spinning. Why was Edward's little sister calling me? I had never met her as she was three years younger than me and went to a private school in Seattle. Edward had mentioned her couple of times and I had the impression that they had been quite close as children._

"_Oh. Hi – what can I do for you?" I asked, confused._

"_You can come over. I would love to meet you."_

"_I'm sorry," I stuttered. "What?"_

"_I would like you to come over here. You know our address, right?" She spoke like the decision had already been made for me and I was just making it all difficult. And that appeared to be exactly the case._

"_Um...I would love to, Alice, but I'm afraid it has to wait until another time."_

"_Oh. Ok." She sounded really disappointed and her voice became very small. _

"_No, I mean...it's my car."_

"_Your car?"_

"_Yes. It's...sort of broken." And then I told her about my embarrassing situation._

"_Don't worry! I'll come to pick you up," she declared happily._

"_No, I don't want to burden..._

"_Oh, don't be silly, Bella! I really want to meet you. I'll arrange your truck to get towed away, too."_

"_Alice, that's really too much, I can call them myself..." I tried._

"_No. I insist. See you in a bit." And then she ended the call. Controlling, much? Still, for some odd reason, I really started to like this girl. I was completely bemused as to why on earth she felt she needed to meet me, or even how she knew about me or had my cell phone number, but somehow I felt that she might also be quite fun to be around with. And it didn't hurt that she shared a home with Edward._

_Had Edward something to do with this? For a moment I considered the option of him going through all this trouble just to get me under his roof, but then abandoned it as a product of ridiculous wishful thinking. And it didn't sound like something he would do. Maybe this was something Alice did instead. _

_I had stared out of the windshield wistfully. I was angry with myself for being so shy and scared of rejection that I had to hide my true feelings or the fact that I had any feelings at all. I just didn't know how to be friends with Edward without completely outing my love._

_Love?_

_Was that what it was? Surely it was too early to feel that way – I didn't even know him that well. Not to mention how incredibly stupid and juvenile that would have been! I had never been in love and had only read about it in books and seen in movies, and my parents hadn't exactly been that amazing examples in love that conquers all. The only kind of love that I had any experience of was a child's unconditional adoration towards their parents - however flawed they were. And yet...there was no other word to describe the longing and the agonizing knowledge that the feeling was most likely one-sided. My feelings for Edward had been way more than a crush for a long time now, but I had yet to figure out the exact time I had started to fall for him. Not that it mattered – the damage was already done and from my point of view it was unfixable. _

_I heard a quiet knock on the driver side window and turned to meet two piercing, staggeringly blue eyes framed by short, black, neatly arranged curls. The eyes were the only thing I could see as the rest of the face didn't quite reach my window. I pushed the door open and was instantly enveloped in a fierce hug._

"_Alice!" I gasped in surprise and hugged her back awkwardly. She just laughed with a soft, bell-like voice and released me, just to hold me in arms length to have better look at me. I could feel her eyes sweep over my Saturday-night shopping attire: faded blue jeans with a tiny hole in the right knee and tennis shoes and a loose, red cotton t-shirt under an old, worn denim coat. Suddenly I was glad I had left my family-heirloom baseball cap in the car._

"_You have awful sense of style for someone so pretty," Alice stated bluntly and eyed my messy ponytail on the top of my head. I honestly didn't know if I should have acted hurt or flattered. As I didn't entertain any delusions of being fashionable to begin with, I went with the latter._

"_Thanks?" It _did_ sound more like a question._

"_No, I mean it – you have this cute-girl-next-door-thing going on, which, by the way, is so totally 1999, but at the same time you dress like a sixty-years-old truck driver!"_

_Ok, so now I was definitely a little insulted. But I had barely time to purse my lips together and take a breath to collect myself for a snarky response as she went on again:_

"_Oh, don't be hurt – Edward totally loves your style – or rather lack of it if you ask me, but whatever. And now you have me, so that can be remedied, too. What do you think about makeovers?"_

_I was momentarily dazed by the fact that Edward had talked about me to her sister and maybe even given me some praise. I felt my cheeks change colour. Then I realized that Alice still waited for an answer for her insane word vomit._

"_M-makeovers? I don't know..."_

"_Oh, don't look so scared – I have amazing taste!" Clearly Alice didn't share my issues with unsecure self- esteem._

"_Hey!" Some man yelled from a car behind my truck. "Are you going to move that piece of shit or do I have to call the cops?!"_

_Again, before I even had the chance to consider my response, Alice was at it._

"_You go ahead and call the cops, Sir! I bet you would love to meet her dad, CHIEF OF POLICE Charlie Swan!" she yelled back._

"_Oh. My. GOD! Alice!!" I hissed, appalled and absolutely humiliated._

"_Come, Bella," she just huffed indignantly."Let's go. I'll call the tow truck to pick up your car." And with that she led me to a shiny black Mercedes which was parked several feet away on the side of the road. On the driver's seat sat a beautiful middle-aged woman with familiar features._

"_Hi, Bella. I'm Esme, Edward's and Alice's mom. Nice to meet you," she greeted when I settled on the back seat of the car. Of course – Alice was only fifteen. She needed somebody to drive. My embarrassment hit back with full force._

"_Mrs. Cullen, I'm so sorry for this – I didn't mean to inconvenience you..." I apologised, my face flaming._

"_Nonsense." Esme's voice was firm but gentle – very motherly. "I will hear none of that. We couldn't possibly let you deal with your truck alone. Edward would have been furious if he'd found out that we didn't do everything we can."_

"_He-he doesn't know?"_

"_No, dear. He has been out with his brother all morning."_

"_But how-". This situation didn't make any sense. Suddenly I was the concern of all the Cullens'? And what was that crap about Edward being furious – we didn't literally even see each other!_

"_He doesn't know that I called you, Bella." This time it was Alice. She turned on the passenger seat so she could see me and explained with sincere expression on her face: "He always talks so highly about you and your friendship and I thought that you sound the like of girl I'd love to hang out with, too. I don't have that many girl friends."_

_I had to smile at that. Suddenly I felt almost giddy._

"_I would love to be your friend, too, Alice!" I said warmly. _

_I saw Esme's face on the rear-view mirror and she mouthed 'thank you' to me. Like I was doing a personal favour to her. How strange._

"_The Cullen Mansion" was just as impressive as it was the first time I saw it. The driveway was framed by oaks that looked centuries old and it ended to a huge, circular front yard, and in the middle of it stood a breathtakingly beautiful marble fountain. Behind the four Greek pillars was the front porch with black and white marble tiles. The house itself had light yellow walls and bright white windowsills._

_Esme parked in front of the main entrance instead of driving straight to the garage. "I'll leave you girls here," she said. "I need to run a few errands before dinner –you'll be staying for dinner, right Bella?"_

_I suddenly remembered leaving my groceries inside my truck – they would mostly be ruined when and if I ever got them back. "Yes, thank you," I said, sighing, before climbing out of the car. "I suppose I am."_

"_Great!" Alice exclaimed. "I've never had friends over dinner!" Something in Alice's unconcealed joy over the situation was heartbreaking. Could it really be true that somebody so lovely and generous didn't have friends? Somebody who seemed so easy to love? _

_Alice pulled me through the front door and led me to the lobby – or maybe "atrium" was more appropriate term in this case. The whole house had a spirit of early 19__th__ century – you almost expected a butler to take your coat and a house maid to serve you tea and to see women in wide dresses and gentlemen in tweed suits to wander around in the hallways. For a moment I just stood there and marvelled._

"_So – welcome!" Alice said, smiling widely and spreading her arms. "Would you like a tour?"_

"_Wow...Alice – this is gorgeous!" I breathed, taking off my jacket and hanging it to a coat closet. "How..?"_

"_Oh, this is my Mom's childhood home," Alice explained almost dismissively. "The Platt-Evensons have lived here since 1790. Then Charles Platt-Evenson almost lost it in gambling and it stood empty for two decades until my parents moved in here in 1980 after their wedding and started to renovate it. This place was a mess!" Alice had grabbed my hand again and was pulling me upstairs through the huge stairway – marble, of course. It was hard to believe that this place had ever been a "mess" – every single surface and furniture breathed class and good taste without being tacky or too extravagant. _

"_Mom is interior designer and this house is her pet project – dad says that he never bothers to even try to remember the room plan because it changes all the time. Edward's room is the only one mom is not allowed to touch."_

"_Why?"_

"_He has this enormous music collection in his room, which he is totally obsessed about and then, of course, the love of his life, a grand piano. Apparently it goes out of tune if you move it around." Alice huffed as to show how much she cared if her brother's piano was in tune or not. I, on the other hand, was intrigued. I had learned few things about him during our conversations and I knew that he was passionate about music but it was very different to witness it in person. Now, when I looked at the walls, I saw dozens of beautifully framed, black-and-white photos of the Cullen children, and several of them portrayed Edward in different ages playing in piano recitals, sitting on a piano bench at home and grouched over a sheet of music. And it didn't look like he was forced to do any of those things._

_My mom had tried to put me on piano classes when I was four, but after I'd had a major temper tantrum and nearly destroyed the electric keyboard I had at home after my first lesson, she gave up. It was hard to make me do anything I didn't want to when she was at Florida and I was at Forks._

_The first room on the second floor was Alice's. It was mixture of girly frills and designer's work shop. It seemed that Alice's passion was as obvious as her brother's. The walls were covered with framed covers of Vogue, Marie Claire, Vanity Fair and other fashion magazines I knew nothing about. The room itself had only space for a queen size bed and a huge desk for pens, pencils, watercolours, sketch books and textile samples, but on the furthest wall led to a gigantic walk-in closet, which was about the size of my room at home._

"_Do you like my room?" Alice asked and smiled proudly._

"_Of course – it's amazing! And you are so talented," I added when I saw some of the sketches that were scattered over the floor of the tiny room. Alice looked like she would explode with pride. She pecked a kiss on my cheek and sung: "Thanks, Bella! You're sweet – no wonder my brother is so in to you!"_

"_Ed-Edward?" I stuttered and staggered a step back. I tried to look just politely curious, but of course I blushed._

"_Don't you, like, talk to each other every night for, like, hours?" Alice looked at me knowingly._

"_Yes – we are friends."_

"_Sure. But how come Edward hasn't written a song to any of his other friends?"_

_Edward had written a song to me? A song? I blushed even more but at the same time fought to regain my composure._

"_A song? How do you know it's for me? Has he told-"_

"_No, he never tells me anything but I have my sources," Alice waved impatiently. "Its title is' Bella's Lullaby'. I don't think it's a coincidence that it was written after your first date!"_

"_It wasn't a date !" I corrected automatically, even though, frankly, I wasn't sure of anything anymore. _

"_Yeah, well, you call it whatever you want. But can you honestly tell that you don't have any feelings towards him?"_

"_I am so not going to discuss about that!" I said, finally finding some dignity inside from me. Alice was a nice girl and all, but enough was enough. _

"_OK, I'm sorry, Bella!" Alice apologised quickly but sincerely. And it was impossible to stay mad at her when she looked at me earnestly with those huge eyes of hers and added: "I sometimes forget that other people have personal boundaries – I don't have any and my family is kind of used to it."_

_I had to laugh at her honesty. It was very endearing._

"_Do you want to see Edward's room?" she asked."I promise not to pry anymore."_

"_I don't know, Alice – "I hesitated. "I don't think he would like that..."_

"_Nonsense! I'll just give you a peek inside – and it has this amazing view to our garden!"_

"_Well..." But Alice was already pulling me out of her room and towards a closed door on the opposite wall._

_And she was right, of course – the view was magnificent. The garden was more like a field or a park and you could tell just by looking at it that it was a work of a professional. The Cullens had their own gardeners. Just how high in the upper class were they? And surely even hot shot doctors didn't make that much money?_

_I was very shy to look around in the room itself – it felt like intruding Edward's privacy. I didn't think he would have liked to see me or anyone here uninvited. In the furthest corner of the room stood his grand piano, the beautiful, black instrument, with music sheets scattered over the lid and piles and piles of them around it. I saw the bookshelves which weren't filled with books but with records: LPs, EPs, CDs. I felt tempted to have a closer look at the titles, but felt also that it would have been too much. I wanted Edward's personal permission to do that._

_Alice had no such apprehensions. She walked straight to the piano and flipped through the sheets._

"_Ha!" she exclaimed triumphantly and held up one. "Look – 'Bella's Lullaby' by Edward A. Cullen'! I told you he was in to you."_

"_Alice! Put that away – I'm sure he doesn't appreciate us being here!" I said and took the sheet from her when she didn't make any move to oblige. "And this –"._

_I never had the chance to finish my sentence. Like in a movie, everything happened like in slow motion; I turned around when I heard a voice, heard Alice gasp in surprise and saw the tall, glorious and frightening figure of Edward in the doorway, deadly furious._

"_Get. Out." He said in a quiet voice._

_I didn't. I stood there like a statue, unable to move a muscle. I didn't dare to meet his eyes so I wasn't sure if the command was actually meant for me or Alice or us both. It really didn't matter to me at the moment. _

"_Get. Out. Now." And then I suddenly found that my feet were functioning again and were carrying me out of the door quicker than I thought possible. I felt tears of humiliation pouring from my eyes and I didn't want him or anyone else to see them. I was utterly embarrassed and angry for myself. By the look on his face it was clear that he would never forgive me. I had sneaked around in his room like some gossipy, nosy, silly girl – like Jessica. Or Lauren._

_But most of all I was hurt. I hadn't wanted to go in to his room in the first place and was only trying to talk sense to Alice when he'd marched in and didn't even bother to ask what was going on. I stopped on my tracks, turned around slowly and took a step forward. I was standing on top of the staircase and Edward was still at his door, his back to me. Alice hadn't come out yet. I could hear her voice, quiet and apologizing. I wondered briefly if she used her "no personal boundaries" explanation again._

_I took the few remaining steps towards Edward's room and cleared my throat. Edward flinched and turned to me, not meeting my eyes. His face was expressionless. _

"_I believe this belongs to you," I said coolly and handed him the Lullaby. Suddenly I felt ridiculous and stupid having ever entertained any hopes about his feelings to me. If there had been any, there certainly wasn't anymore. I had made sure of that, with a little help of his sister._

_He took the paper without a word and turned his back to me. _

"_Alice, a moment?" he said to his sister and closed the door to my face. _

_I was dismissed and I had no ride home. How the hell did that happen?_

"Have you seriously set your heart and mind into shopping today, Alice?" I ask when we sit down in our kitchen. Even when I am asking I can hear how ridiculous I sound. Alice's mind is always set for shopping. Mine, however, isn't.

"What do you mean?" She crosses her slender legs and folds her arms graciously on her lap, staring at me in bewilderment.

"I mean – I really don't feel like going to the mall today."I shake my head sadly. After waking up from my unplanned nap I barely made it to the bathroom when I was forced to choke up my non-existent breakfast. The worst wave of nausea passed with that, but an odd feeling of sickness still lingers. I am sure that at least half of it is psychological. More specifically, Edward. The realization of his impending departure has made me physically sick.

"Are you OK? You know you don't have to actually buy anything – I just need your opinion", Alice says. I raise my eyebrows at her and she retreats a little. "OK, so I don't _need _your opinion. But shopping alone isn't that much fun. I need your whining and lack of enthusiasm. And you make me always look good next to you. " No. Not a compliment.

"No...I just...I have been a little sick." I suppose now is as good time as any to reveal the Big Secret.

"Alice – the thing is...I'm pregnant. And it makes me vomit a lot. And Edward's leaving today. And he is not allowed to furloughs because his contract is only six months."

Alice doesn't say anything. She just stares at me eyes wide, small mouth slightly open. I continue before she has the chance to recover.

"I was totally going with you today, but then I had a nap and was really sick afterwards. I just don't feel like going anywhere. I'm sorry." Still no response. I notice a small change in Alice's expression: her eyes have started to sparkle and her mouth is beginning to form a smile.

"Alice?"

And then she bounces and crushes me to her fierce hug, achingly familiar. "Awwww!"she squeals. "I'm so happy! You are totally forgiven!" I laugh and hug her back.

"My dear brother, on the other hand, is in trouble. How dare he just leave without telling me?" Alice pouts when we sit down again. "I'm his favourite sister." I can tell from her face that she is actually hurt and hurry to fix the situation.

"No, sweetie, he really didn't have much time before the take-off. I think he called your parents, though."

Alice doesn't answer, but stares wistfully the table top, fiddling with the hem of her shirt absent-mindedly. She chews her lower lip, which is still jutting out adorably. Sometimes it is a little too easy to forget that she isn't fifteen anymore. I walk around the table to her side and take her tiny form in to my arms.

"Honey...you know that he misses you, too, don't you?"

"No, it's not that, Bella..." Alice takes a deep, shaky breath and leans her on my shoulder. Despite the circumstances I find it very pleasant to witness this display of the new, vulnerable side of her. It makes her seem almost human – as human as Alice Cullen can ever appear. She still looks like an elf or a woodland fairy, but the complexity of her emotions is so clear in her huge eyes that for a moment she actually seems real.

"What is it, Al? You know you can tell me", I try to encourage, trying not to pressure her too much.

"It's just...I know that he is first and foremost a husband to you and this is probably something that it's hard to understand from that point of view...but – oh, you'll think I'm an awful person!!" She gives up in the middle of her very confusing explanation attempt and rubs her eyes furiously.

"Alice?"

"Bella – it was so different before he got to know you! He was my one and only friend – how pathetic is that!"

"It's not –"

"No, no, let me explain!" she takes another deep breath and locks her gaze to my eyes. "You know that I didn't have any friends at school and we didn't have any neighbours near my age. I didn't mind the bullies at the school – they were just miserable, silly girls – but I really, really needed a confidant. And Edward was there. He had lots of friends and everybody liked him, but he always had time for me. He was real protective, too." Alice smiled ruefully at her memory.

"I think I know what you mean."

"I just bet you do. Well, anyway – he found out that there were some kids who weren't nice to me and demanded to know their names. Of course I didn't tell, even though he threatened to call the school, but it was nice know that I had such a powerful back-up. See, all the girls in my school had a crush on him and I only needed to mention that he is my brother and left me alone for, like, a month. It was the best month in my life that far! That's why I was actually a little jealous to you when you two started to date – I felt that you owned all her free time."

I have tears in my eyes now, too. Something in Alice's silent suffering in her adolescence and the unearned absolution for the bullies still breaks my heart. Someday, I swear, I will demand to hear the whole story about her high school misery. I remember asking Edward once why Alice went to a different school than he and Emmet. He seemed a little reluctant to talk about it, which felt odd. He said that Alice didn't simply fit in with "normal" public school kids. And yet it appears that the fancy, expensive private school she attended to instead wasn't that perfect either, after all.

"I'm sorry, Alice," I say sincerely and hug her tight.

"Don't worry. But I don't think he realizes even now how completely I depended on his support back then. And he still sends me these amazingly brotherly messages and calls every now and again to interrogate me about my life – well, he used to anyway, before he left to the camp. I always feign annoyance when he starts his third degree, but I think we both know that I still need him."

I am figuratively thrown out of balance momentarily – I can't believe there is this side of my husband that I wasn't aware: protective big brother for his grown-up sister. I have always known that Edward and Alice are close, but still...

"See – this is his latest text to me!"Alice says and fishes her cell phone from the front pocket of her skinny jeans.

**Freezing cold outside – put on your winter coat. Love U. E. **

"He sent this the morning you took him to the airport. I swear, sometimes he's worse than Mom."

I nod, smiling, unable to speak. I feel like crying again and I think I've had more than my fare share of weeping for today.

"And that's why I think he is going to be one hell of a dad," Alice adds simply, wiping a lone tear from my cheek with pad of her thumb.

"I think so, too."

"Ok, Cry Baby, cheer up!" Alice exclaims suddenly, and I have once again hard time following her mood swings. Seriously, and I'm the knocked-up one here.

She stands up quickly pulling me with her and tows me to our living-room. "Do you still feel like throwing up?" she enquires, her hands on her hips. I shrug lightly.

"Not right now..."

"Great! Where's your computer?" She is on a mission and I wouldn't dream of standing on her way.

"Bedroom," I answer humbly.

"A sec." It only seems a little more than a second before she has fetched the laptop from upstairs and sat down on the sofa. I sit down next to her when she opens the lid and switches the computer on.

"What are we doing?" I ask after a brief silence.

"Well, seeing that you have recently put up a whole lot of weight, you need a whole new wardrobe. And the baby, of course, needs a thing or two." Alice's gaze is fixed to the computer screen. She has opened the internet browser is typing the name of maternity clothes retailer on the address line while speaking.

"Really?" I ask with a timid hope in my voice.

"Have you turned in to a naturist? Of course baby needs clothes, Bella. We live in Forks."

"No, silly - I mean, am I really showing?" I am grasping Alice's arm like a drowning person to a life-preserver.

Alice glances me, surprised. "Honestly? When I saw you today I thought that 'whoa, I guess that Bella has really found the comfort eating!'"

I laugh with her and slap her arm gently, suddenly deliriously happy. I lift the hem of my ragged t-shirt just a little, just enough to catch a peek of my belly. And there it is – I haven't seen it before, but now that Alice has pointed it out, I can definitely see my teeny, tiny _baby bump. _It's there, imaginary or not.

"You know what?" I say and stand up, full of energy. "I'm suddenly feeling a lot better. Wanna go to the mall, Alice?"


	6. Vertigo

_A/N: I do not own anything from Twilight universe._

_Thanks again for all the readers and subscribers and reviewers. You are my fuel._

_EPOV in chapter 8. Wait and see._

Vertigo

It has been a week since Edward's departure – a week since I've heard anything from him. No emails, no phone calls – nothing. That is what was to be expected, though, and I try to find some comfort from the old saying: _no news is good news . _I miss him immensely, every day, but I have also come to notice that I manage fairly well on my own, too. I've never lived alone before – in college I had two roommates and then I got married – so being the only inhabitant of a middle sized house and not having to tell anyone about my plans for the day or consider anyone else but myself still holds some novelty to me.

I am always been very private person. I have no genuine need to share my feelings or plans or insights with anyone – Edward, of course, being the only exception. Opening up to him has always been natural; more like a need than an obligation. I have never been the one to believe that married couples should share everything – that's just unhealthy – but with Edward it's like writing a journal. It's an impulse; after following it I feel refreshed and somehow lighter.

When Edward is away it's like being a teenager again. I talk to my friends and share some of my burden with them, but the most important things I keep to myself. Instead of feeling burdened I find it very pleasant. I like living in my own little world and keeping it locked from outsiders. In the evenings I lie down on our bed, stroke my belly and just think, or if I feel particularly talkative, talk to the baby. At first it feels silly and awkward, but very soon I start to find something very familiar about the habit. We used to lie like that with Edward – spooning, side by side – just going through our days. Usually it is just me talking and him listening. He finds my "evening ramblings" somehow funny and endearing. He rarely comments on anything, or offers his insight, but I love feeling his warm breath in my neck and feel him shaking with silent laughter when I say something amusing or what he thinks is "cute". Every now and again he presses kisses on my shoulder or on my hair, or when he feels particularly frisky, licks my neck or bites my ear.

I occupy myself on daytime with my job and doing all kinds of house hold chores. I keep our home tidy and clean, my laundry basket is never overflowing and I have started to decorate the spare bed room next to ours. I have chosen the colour of the walls, but can't paint them because the smell of the chemicals makes me nauseated. I have also chosen curtains and rugs and ordered some furniture from the internet. It is not going to be the most luxurious nursery in the world, but it's for our baby and it's perfect.

Somehow the thought of letting the baby spend her or his nights alone in his or her own room creeps me out, and I am relieved to notice that there is enough space for a crib in our bedroom. I still find decorating the little nursery very satisfying, so I guess our baby will have to choose between two sleeping quarters.

I have kept my little project from Alice and Esme – I know that they would be absolutely thrilled to help, but I feel that this is something I need to do on my own. Or, more accurately, something I would do with Edward, but since he is not here, doing it alone is the next best option. I find it oddly therapeutic, too.

Alice has filled my closet with dozens of new outfits, all very pretty and girly. Still, it feels a bit ostentatious to wear expensive designer maternity clothes, when my pregnancy is visible only for Alice and myself. Instead of gaining weight I have lost several pounds – undoubtedly because of my all-day sickness – and even though I'd like to think that my belly seems slightly rounder, my ribs are even more prominent than before and my hip bones look downright ugly.

My next doctor's appointment is not for another week, so I have to trust my instincts when it comes to the size of my belly. I have become fixated to it. In some subconscious level I realize that the pace of the growth and the changes in my body are not something that should be considered achievements and it is definitely not healthy to measure my adequacy as woman or wife or mother by these factors – and yet I keep doing it.

As it is, it would be safe to say that I have filled my days fairly efficiently and have no time for brooding. And still, there always is. When I choose the wall papers or paints or diaper disposal system for the nursery or have my fifteen-minute coffee break at work my thoughts escape without my permission to Edward, and more specifically, to his absence. I never let myself linger too long in those thoughts, but sometimes I can't help the aching sensation in my chest. I will it away quickly, but it always leaves a shadow of pain on its wake.

I have no number to call to him, other than his cell, which is useless to me now. I have a number for the Staff Head-quarters somewhere in Baghdad, but it is only for emergencies, such as queries for MIAs and...worse. I don't ever wish to use that number. I also have his email address, but it seems silly to use it when I don't know whether or not he will have the chance to read it. I am absolutely certain that he will contact me as soon as he gets things settled down there.

In the meantime, I just wait. And I also give up and write the damn email.

**Hi Baby,**

**How are you doing? Have you gotten things straightened there already? I'm guessing not, because I haven't heard a beep from you. I want to know that you are well and happy and healthy and if the other kids are being nice to you. **

**I'm doing great. My tummy is still nice and flat, but Alice says that I look fat, so I think I'm getting somewhere. Anyway, my boobs are not happy in my old bras, so there's at least some improvement. Also, my thighs are huge. Seriously, you would be impressed. Or repulsed, depending on your preferences. And my ass is the size of Texas. So basically every other part of my body is expanding, except for my uterus. What's up with that, Doctor? And how come I'm still losing weight instead of gaining it?**

**I didn't know there were that many ways of knocking a girl up, but you should check your technique, mister. It looks like you've done something wrong or then I'm just being me and screwing things up as usual.**

**Don't worry, I love you either way.**

**Alice was ecstatic learning about our pregnancy. She went absolutely crazy about it and has already purchased a wardrobe that covers the first eighteen years of our child. She also thinks that you are going to ask her to be the Godmother. You really should. It's really big deal for her.**

**I miss you so much. Be safe and take care of yourself for me. Seriously.**

**I'm so in love with you it doesn't make any sense.**

****

**Yours,**

**Bella**

**P.S. Baby says 'hi'.**

After sending that rather pointless message I feel momentarily tempted to curl onto a ball and mull in my misery, but the ringing of our home phone makes me forget such plans. My mind is filled with wild hope of hearing Edward's voice – we've never been this long before without talking to each other. I guess my disappointment is fairly understandable when the voice isn't his after all.

It's Jacob Black – my old friend from La Push. Jake runs his own business, selling and repairing vintage cars and has remained as a happy bachelor for all these years. I talk to him from time to time and it always feels easy and effortless. He is funny and chilled and easy-going – and I can also tell that he feels the same way about me. Jake has never really bonded with Edward, but doesn't seem threatened by him either. Edward, on the other hand, has made it clear that while Jake is definitely not one of his favourite people in the world, he has nothing against our friendship. Or maybe he has, but he knows better than to voice it around me. There has never been anything romantic about our relationship – he's like a brother I never had, so I can't really understand why the two best guys in the world don't get along. Maybe it's some kind of weird jealousy thing – I know that my dear husband has the tendency to all kinds of ridiculous reactions when I'm concerned – and Jake would certainly enjoy throwing a fuel to the fire just for the sport of it.

Guys are so weird.

"Hi, Jake! Great to hear from you!"

"You too, missus!" he laughs with his husky voice. "It's been forever."

"I know!"

"Look, I'm having this house-warming party a week from this Saturday and I was wondering if you would come, too."

I remember him telling me about moving back to his childhood home. His father Billy has passed away few months ago and left his house to his only son. I suppose it makes sense, him moving back. Jake has never quite felt at home in his city loft.

"Sure, I would love to!"

"Also, if you want to come over today, we can order some pizza and watch 'The Simpsons' reruns."

I laugh long and hard at that. "Jacob Black – I swear that you haven't aged a day since your sixteenth birthday! I feel like an old lady talking to you!"

"Well – yes or no? Or are you too old for hanging out?"

"No, I guess not. I'll see you in an hour!"

I am still laughing as I end the call and go to bathroom to clean myself up.

No one does hanging out like Jake.

I suddenly feel hundred pounds lighter and sing happily out of tune while washing my hair and shaving my legs.

_Storming out from the "Cullen Mansion" didn't really leave me much choice of transportation. I had to walk the five miles from there to home. I also came to the rather unpleasant realization that I was really, really hungry. Starving. Having decided earlier to forgo breakfast and lunch and focus on my big Mexican dinner instead I now actually felt weak and a little dizzy._

_Turning back and meeting _him _wasn't an option either. I was still very angry and hurt and felt only bad for Alice, for leaving her. But I'd had to. My patent solution to everything was to start crying and I did definitely not want to do that in front of her brother. Just the remainder of his furious face made my cheeks flame with shame – but I quickly hid that under my own fury. I also started to feel a little silly about my reaction and that was a very unwelcome feeling. I needed my dignity, now more than ever._

_I quickened my pace and was soon half way of the Cullen's long driveway. I was fuming and the rattle of the small pebbles under my angry steps added a nice touch to the scene. I was so absorbed in to my little anger that I didn't hear him before he grabbed my arm._

"_Bella," he said breathlessly. I yelped in surprise and tried to yank my arm free from his grasp. I didn't succeed and we both stopped. He was still a little flushed after apparently running from the house to me. He shouldn't have bothered._

"_Let me go." To my utter horror I could already feel angry tears prickle in my eyes. I blinked desperately and refused to meet his eyes, still struggling to free myself._

"_No, Bella, listen..."_

"_Let. Me. GO!"_

"_No, not before you let me speak." The bastard actually grabbed my chin and tried to make me to meet his gaze and it made me even angrier. I slapped his hand away from my chin and struggled against his grasp on my arm._

"_Don't touch me!"_

_He let my arm abruptly and hung his head defeated. "Bella, I'm sorry." He sounded sincere, even though I wasn't sure if he referred to the events at the house moments ago or to stopping me. So I let him continue, staring intently on my feet._

"_Please – let me drive you home."_

"_I can walk." And to prove that I took few brisk steps. The combination of poor sense of balance even on a flat surface and sudden light-headedness caused by low blood-sugar could only end in one way: I lost my footing, swayed on my spot for a moment and then started to fall. I never hit the ground – Edward had suddenly his arm around my waist and the last thing a saw before everything went black was his worried face and those bottomless, forest green eyes. _

_They were also the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes again. I couldn't tell how much time has passed but it couldn't have been long – we were still on the Cullen driveway on the exactly same spot. Edward had lowered me down on the ground and my head appeared to rest on his lap. He was staring at me with those maddeningly enchanting orbs of his and I nearly passed out again for the mere proximity. His face had lit up when I'd opened my eyes and after a few deep breaths he let out a breath of relief of his own._

"_Shit, Bella!" His voice was oddly hoarse, like from shouting or talking too much. "You scared the living hell out of me!"_

"_I'm sorry". Yes. Those were my exact words. It seemed like I used apologising as a defence mechanism or something equally ridiculous._

_Edward found that particularly funny and started to laugh and it was only then I noticed that he had been holding my hand the entire time. He didn't let it go even now. I still felt a little light-headed, so I didn't have enough strength to laugh, but I smiled like a moron. His laughter was officially my favourite sound in the world. My head was still in his lap; my hand in his and his eyes never left mine._

_For the life of me I couldn't find a way back to my earlier anger. In fact, I felt ridiculously blissful. And then his free hand touched my cheek tentatively and I didn't even _want_ to remember what I was supposed to be so mad about._

"_Are you apologising for me again?" he asked softly, echoes of his laughter still in his voice. _

"_Sorry", I repeated like an idiot. I felt giddy and I didn't ever want to move again. _

_He stared at me with a peculiar expression on his face. He looked almost calculating, but his eyes still held that softness in them – it made me feel suddenly very self-conscious._

"_What?" I asked, blushing for some reason. Not that I ever needed one for that particular reaction._

"_Bella...I..." He closed his eyes and opened them slowly again._

"_I'd like to kiss you."_

_My heart nearly stopped – and then it's pace sped up like a steam hammer, or like a humming bird's wings. I couldn't find anything to say. I just swallowed awkwardly. He started to bend down towards my face – mine were now inches apart from his – and slowly closed his eyes._

"_BELLA!!" Alice's piercing scream from the house somewhat ruined the moment. We flew apart in a split second and Edward let go of my face and dropped my hand like it'd been burning him. I struggled myself on a sitting position and tried to avoid his eyes. Alice was running towards us and Edward had that sullen expression on his face again._

"_She's fine, Alice." He said in a bored tone. "Aren't you?" he added quietly to me. I managed a nod._

"_What did you do to her, you idiot?" Alice was now standing next to us, eyeing threateningly to his brother. "I told you-"_

"_I'm fine, Alice", I said breathlessly and let Edward help me up. He didn't release my hand when I found my feet. "I just fell down. No harm done."_

"_Come on – let's get you something to eat. You look a bit pale." He gave me his crooked smile, still a bit tight, and finally released my hand to put his arm around my waist. My light-headedness had now nothing to do with low blood-sugar, but he didn't need to know that. Together we follow Alice back to the house._

***

"I can't possibly eat any more pizza – I'm going to explode, I swear!" I pat my full tummy and lean back in the sofa, sighing in contentment. We are sitting in Jake's old living room and have just destroyed one extra large pepperoni pizza. I don't remember when was the last time I ate as much pizza – or as much of anything, really. I feel stuffed.

We have watched the Simpsons from Jake's huge flat screen, laughed and made fun of each other. It's like we were kids again. Jake sits next to me on the sofa, his long legs crossed on the top of the coffee table. His black, shiny hair is a little over-grown and he has tied it down with a rubber band. He is wearing oil-stained jeans and a grey, ragged t-shirt. Alice would have a field day with him.

I notice that his ears have turned dark red under my scrutiny and he shifts uncomfortably.

"Well – do I pass the test?" he asks and laughs awkwardly.

"I don't know – aren't you supposed to be this successful business man slash eligible bachelor?"

"I am. Why – don't I look like my part?"

I smack him lightly on his huge left bicep. "Not in the slightest. It's like looking at you fifteen years ago. You haven't changed a bit."

"Why thank you, Ms. Swan."

"It wasn't a compliment. And I've been Mrs. Cullen for the last four years."

"Sure, sure. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. You don't look like old married lady either, Bells."

He ruffles my hair and throws his enormous arm around my shoulders. "And that is definitely a compliment."

"Oh, I know. And it's kinda easy to forget my age in your company. I haven't laughed this much in years."

"Oh – is Cullen boring you already?"

This time my smack isn't that gentle.

"No, silly! But me and Edward talk about all kinds of stuff, and not only joke around like you and I."

"Are you insinuating that we can't be serious? That I can't talk about real stuff?" Jake's eyebrows have risen nearly to his hairline.

"That's exactly what I'm saying – and I'm perfectly fine with that. We don't need to discuss about anything – we can just hang out."

"No, missy, I'm insulted! Here's some serious topics for you: I've been in love with you since you were twelve and I was eleven. And that hasn't changed. How 'bout that?" He utters a little, tight laugh after the declaration.

I burst out laughing and nearly fall down the sofa – until I realize that Jake hasn't joined me. How odd.

"Jake?" I ask tentatively, wiping tears from my eyes. "Are you OK?"

He doesn't answer, just stares ahead, frowning, not looking at me.

"Jake, Hon – you weren't serious, were you?" A small, horrible realization starts to creep in my mind.

"Does it matter?" His voice is accusatory and very quiet. Somehow the atmosphere in the room has changed in mere minutes from light to dead serious.

"Of course it matters! Why haven't you told me?" I exclaim and grab his arm, trying desperately t to make him meet my eyes. He pulls his arm free from my grasp and shifts further away from me.

"Honestly, Bella – would it have changed anything? Did I honestly ever stand a chance?" His voice is so bitter and so unlike Jake that my heart breaks for hearing it.

He still won't look at me.

"But – but-"

"It's OK, Bells. I'm sorry I brought this up. I don't know why I'm being such a sap."

His forced laughter is worse than his bitter words and stiff posture put together. This is definitely not OK. Not once in all these years have I had even the slightest reason to suspect anything like this. What we've had has always been easy and simple – he is like my brother, for crying out loud!

"Jake! You should have told me. I would have made this so much easier for you!"

"How? Bella, get real – you and I both know that you have never had eyes for anyone else but Cullen. And you know what? I've learned to live with that. So please, please let it be!"

We both stand up at the same time – he, agitated and I absolutely desperate to make him see how sorry I am. As if that would have changed anything. Because he is right, of course – knowing about his feelings for me would not have changed the ultimate outcome. I have belonged to Edward from the day one.

Has Edward known this – all this time, has he been aware of Jake's unrequited love for me? That would explain his aversion to him.

"Jake...I'm so sorry!" I feel like an idiot, apologising something that neither of us can change. It's just something I do, when I feel trapped - I apologise where others fight or flight.

"Bells! C'mon now!" Jake sounds angry, although I'm not quite sure if he is angry for me or himself. Probably both. "Can't we just forget I ever said anything? I just want to be friends like before."

"How can I possibly let this go?"I wail and fight against tears. "You have basically just told me that I have caused you pain for last fifteen years without even knowing it – and now we should just pretend it didn't happen?"

Jake lets out an exasperated sigh and drops himself on the sofa again. I can't sit down, so I keep pacing around the room, my hands gripping my hair.

"Bella – I don't know why you want to make such a huge spectacle about this! I. AM. FINE. Please, please –let's talk about something else!"

"Is this why you have been alone for all these years? You could have anyone!"

"Not _anyone_, Bells. And, really – there is no competition. I'm sorry to tell, but you kind of ruined me from everybody else." He laughs wryly, shaking his head.

"But that's awful!"

"Nah." Jake shrugs dismissively. "Just name your first born after me and we call it even."

I stop on my tracks and slowly turn to face him. He can't possibly know...

"What?"

"Just name your...honestly Bella, have you lost your sense of humour? It was a joke! That's what we do, you said it yourself." He smiles a half-smile now, his other eyebrow raised.

"Do you really want me to do that? What if it's a girl?" I ask, feigning non-chalance.

"I dunno – I kind of like Jacobina, though." We both have to laugh at that.

"I'm sure Edward would just loooove that. But it's definitely an option."

"Yeah, well, fortunately you have time."

"Only seven months." I bit my lower lip, suddenly self-conscious. I watch his expression turn from amused to incredulous. And then, without warning, he leaps from the sofa and throws his arms around me enveloping me in a warm, bear-like hug. We laugh breathlessly and only then I notice the piercing pain in my stomach. It makes me cry out sharply and for a moment I see only stars. I try to breath, holding my stomach and squeezing my eyes shut.

"OW. ."

Jake grouches worriedly in front of me, holding my arms and shaking me lightly.

"Bells – what is it?"

I can't from an answer, at least not a coherent one. I feel the present moment slipping from my grasp and I fall, fall, fall – into the comfortable darkness.


	7. Delirium

_A/N: it has been a while. Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait, as it has been revised and betaed (it IS a word. I just made it up.) by the lovely Springlily86. _

_Thanks again for the readers and reviewers._

Delirium

It's too bright. Curtain less windows don't shield the room from the rising sun and the snow white walls reflect all the light back to the only living occupant of the room – me. After forcing my eyes open for a tiny peek I notice that I am in a hospital. Having been fairly regular customer of said facility for nearly 27 years I don't need that many clues. As I'm trying to turn on my side to block the too bright and too hot sunlight I have my first clue as to _why. _ It's as if someone has stabbed me on the right side of my stomach, turned the knife couple of times for good measure and then left it there. I can't help the agonized cry that escapes from my lips. My free hand – the one that is not attached to some annoying, beeping machine – flies without my permission to my belly.

"No, no, no, no..." My wailing echoes eerily in an otherwise empty room. I find the call button next to my pillow and press it. I need to know. I need to be sure... And beyond all things I need my Edward. The fact that it cannot be arranged doesn't make the need go away. It worsens it.

The door finally opens and a nurse comes in, followed shortly by a doctor. And not just any doctor, but Doctor Carlisle Cullen, who is holding my chart in a clipboard and talking to a cell phone. He smiles at me gently, before looking back at my chart and returning to his muted phone conversation.

"Hi, I'm Wendy", the nurse says, smiling a tight-lipped smile and I smile back meekly. My breathing is still a little short because of the pain and anxiety and I bite my cheek from the inside to prevent myself from whining aloud. After the first stabbing agony the pain is now settled to the right side of my abdomen to a pulsing, burning sensation.

"I see that you are in a bit of a pain", Wendy states, nodding towards my awkward position on the bed. "Unfortunately I can't give you any pain relief before the doctors have decided what to do."

I bit my lip and nod. What the hell am I supposed to say to a statement like that? 'Give me morphine; I don't care about the reason'? I think not.

Wendy takes my bedside chart and writes down some figures from the bleeping device next my head. "I wasn't able to get all your information straight when you were brought in last night – you were nearly unconscious and your friend couldn't tell much. He only mentioned that you are pregnant. Is that correct?

"Yes", I wince out. "Ten weeks along."

"Wendy?" Carlisle has finished his phone call and is now standing next to my bed, my back still party turned to him. I can't move from my pain.

"I can take it from here. Would you mind paging Dr Uley for me, please?"

"Certainly, Dr Cullen." Wendy throws me one more glance and exits. The moment the door closes behind her the atmosphere changes from stiff and professional to warm and familiar.

"Bella, darling", Carlisle says and presses a kiss to my heated cheek. "I came as soon as I heard! I'm so sorry you had to go through all that hassle in ER – they didn't know that you were my family and couldn't find anyone to call. Your next of kin is Edward and his cell is obviously unreachable and Jacob wasn't allowed to stay because he is not a relative of yours...so, long story shortly, they finally realized that we had a same last name and paged me."

I really don't care. I don't say that aloud, of course, not wanting to be rude, but still – water under the bridge. I feel a little bad for Jake, though. He must be insane with worry by now. Having me collapsing in his arms minutes after outing his emotions to me and learning that I was –

That I _am _pregnant. I am. Am I?

"Carlisle?" I ask in a small voice. "The baby?"

Carlisle lets out a deep sigh and I start to hyperventilate.

" Carlisle..."

"Sweetie, your baby's OK for now, as far as the ultra sound can tell. The heartbeat is steady and strong. You, on the other hand, Bella..." But I have stopped listening after his second sentence.

"There was a heart beat? Did you hear it? Can _I_ hear it?"

"I'm sure that you will have a change to hear it after your surgery, Bella."

"Surgery?" I turn my body slowly towards my father in law. I notice that he has thrown his lab coat on the window sill and is wearing a slightly wrinkled shirt and dress pants. Clearly he is not on duty today. Poor man.

"Yes, Bella – the surgeon on call, Dr Gerandy, thinks you might have appendicitis. An inflammation of appendix."

"He _thinks? _Is he not sure about that?"

"Well, all your symptoms are pointing to it – nausea and vomiting, abdominal pain located to the right side, high temperature, your blood work – but the only way to confirm that is to open you up and have a look."

Huh. He must have talked to Esme. No one else knows about my all-day sickness – apart from...

"Edward! You haven't called there, have you?"

"No, no – no need to make him worry when he can do nothing about it." Carlisle says, comfortingly. "He will have my head, though, when he finds out", he adds wryly to himself. I don't doubt that. He would want to know.

"About that surgery, Carlisle – I don't want it if it's just some unnecessary diagnostic procedure. I won't risk the baby."

"That's the thing Bella – it's not just diagnostic. If it really is the appendicitis, it can very well be fatal for you and the baby if it's not operated on time, whereas removing the possibly innocent appendix has its risks, too, but it's definitely lesser of the two evils."

I feel like my head is spinning from worry. Looks like I don't have any options. But if there's even a small risk...

"I don't really see any other options here, Bella dear."

"Do I have to decide right now?"

"I'm afraid so. The longer the wait, the bigger the risk of perforation and peritonitis – and that's something you want to avoid, Bella. For both of you." Carlisle's tone is serious, but gentle.

I feel silent tears falling on my pillow and I don't even attempt to cover them. I'm starting to have a head ache from all the unknowns and the medical jargon I don't even want to understand.

"I know you're worried about the baby, dear. But your OB/GYN will be there throughout the whole operation just to monitor the foetus and there's a whole surgical and anaesthetic team looking after both of you." And like as an afterthought, he adds. "I'm sure that's what Edward would want you to do."

I sniff, a little annoyed – I haven't had a moment's doubt about _his _opinion. He would beg me to do anything to keep myself from danger. But the thing is – it's not me I'm worried about, at all. Sadly, it looks like there is no 100% safe alternative from the baby's point of view. I just have to go with the least bad. Somehow that doesn't make me feel very confident.

"Fine. Let's do the damn surgery", I finally groan. As from sheer delight of my decision, my abdomen cramps again with a mind-blowing force. I barely swallow my scream of pain.

Through my agony I feel Carlisle's cool hand on my cheek before he presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

"That's my girl. I'll get the nurse to give you some pain medicine. We are trying to get you to OR as soon as possible."

"Will you be there?" I pant pathetically as the convulsions run through my body.

"If you want me to."

"Please."

"See you on the other side then, Bella."

***

I absolutely hate IVs. It doesn't matter that Carlisle and Dr Gerandy have both sworn that there is no needle in IV cannula; apparently it has been taken off after the insertion – mere look at my bandaged hand connected to an IV line makes me feel all dizzy and nauseous. I'm very glad that I was already drowsy from the premedication when they inserted the damn thing. I only remember the weird smell and tiny stinging sensation in my right hand before blacking out.

Waking up has been a nasty experience of its own. Feeling completely disoriented, light-headed and weird and having to immediately endure the infuriatingly calm and soothing tones of the nurses and beeping and bleeping of the machines made me want to go back to sleep. Of course, the nurses in the Recovery room weren't having that. I needed to be poked, wiped and pinched and my pillows needed to be adjusted and my IV needed to be probed to a point that I actually considered screaming.

Carlisle saves me again. He saunters into the Recovery room with Dr Gerandy on his wake, both in their scrubs and wearing those funny surgical caps with ponies and rainbows. Or Carlisle is – I think wearing ridiculous headpieces is part of the job prescription of Paediatric Doctor. Or maybe it's just Carlisle. They both look quite relaxed and satisfied which lessens my own anxiety remarkably. Surely there can't be anything horribly wrong when even Dr "Pokerface-Billy" Gerandy is smiling.

"Hello, Bella", he greets me. "How are you feeling? I understand that you just woke up."

"I'm fine", I respond with my slightly hoarse voice. "Kind of thirsty, though."

Carlisle pours me a glass of water and hands it to me. "Start carefully, dear. We don't want to make you nauseous."

"SO? Did you find anything?" I ask after two sips of water. "Is everything..." I swallow the end of my question.

"We found a very red and swollen appendix . Quite a nasty inflammation."

"In English?"

Carlisle steps ahead and takes my free hand in both of his. "Bella, it was appendicitis, nearly perforated. It means that we weren't a minute too early."

My hands aren't steady anymore, so I lower the cup on the bedside table. I don't have to understand every word of theirs to get the tone. Carlisle sees the question in my eyes even though I can't bring myself to ask it.

"The baby is fine. Bill removed the appendix and managed to avoid damaging the uterus – it wasn't even close to the place he was operating. Dr Uley – Emily – was happy with the outcome, too. She will see you both later today."

I let out a huge sigh of relief and without my permission it turns into a sob. Dr Gerandy – or "Bill" – shifts uncomfortably on his feet, but Carlisle just presses a kiss on my forehead. He is still holding my other hand in his and gives Bill a significant glance. Bill clears his throat.

I hear him explaining some gross details about the surgery, which I frankly want to know nothing about, and reminds me about the risk of a premature childbirth and then says again something disgusting about my wound. I can't bring myself to care about any of those things at the moment – the most important thing is that I will soon hear my child's heartbeat for the very first time.

His voice falls to the background of my mind, which is currently filled with much more pleasant thoughts. Relief over the successful surgery mixed with some of the wonderful drugs they have been giving me lulls me quickly to sleep. I let the dreams take me to my happy place.

_Esme hadn't arrived yet when we stepped back to the house, so we just waited in the living room. It was just as beautifully decorated as the rest of the house; beautiful, light-coloured textiles__ and the fluffy, comfortable sofas and armchairs created a nice, calming atmosphere. The room was like Esme: graceful, soft and classy._

_We sat down on one of the sofas in front of an open fire place. Edward sat right next to me and I felt a pang of disappointment when he let go of my waist. It was quickly replaced by thrilling excitement when he grabbed my hand in his and casted a shy smile at me. Alice plopped herself down on to an ottoman. She kept throwing sideway glances at us, more specifically at Edward, like preparing for another outburst. I was blissfully unaware about everything else than our intertwined fingers and his thumb stroking mine. I struggled to keep my breathing even and fought the huge smile that threatened to split my face. _

"_I thought that you wanted to get Bella something to eat", Alice said pointedly to her brother after a short silence._

"_NO!" I nearly shouted. The last thing I wanted was to let go of his hand even for a moment. "I'm fine, really." I felt my now permanent blush deepen a little. Edward gave my fingers a little squeeze and asked with a worried crease between his eyebrows:_

"_Are you sure? I mean, our Mom should be home pretty soon, but I'm sure there are some fruits in the kitchen…"_

"_Edward, I'm fine – I can wait until the dinner." I felt a pleasant shiver run down my spine when I said his name. I had no idea what had happened to the Edward who had mere twenty minutes ago commanded me out of his room – not that I missed him in the slightest. I was perfectly content to have this sweet, caring boy in his place. I just felt a little bad for Alice, who I was now neglecting for her brothers benefit. She didn't seem to mind, though, but sit happily on her seat by our feet and chatted away with him. I didn't pay particular attention to the topic, absorbed as I was to the all consuming happiness that seemed to radiate from the place where our hands were joined._

_Apparently Emmet didn't plan to come to dinner as he had plans with his girlfriend – that was all I caught from their vivid conversation. I wondered absent-mindedly if Edward would someday call me his girlfriend - and what that would feel like. Could it be that much different from the position I currently occupied, "a friend" – after all, there was only one word's difference? I was absolutely positive that it would make all the difference in the world. _

_The dinner at the Cullen's was surreal experience, to say the least. Although the facilities and setting was fitting even to royalty, the occasion was surprisingly relaxed and lacked all kinds of formality._

_Carlisle was a gracious host, who greeted me literally with open arms. Esme clearly enjoyed her role as a head chef and a hostess, but at the same time chatted away with her children and husband, scolded to her son for teasing his sister, talked into her cell phone to a client and rearranged the plates and the silverware so that Edward could sit next to me._

_He hadn't let go of my hand at all, as if he was afraid that I would run away if he'd do that. As if. We didn't talk much – not to each other, that is. Alice seemed perfectly happy to sit opposite of us and apart from a few sideway glances to our hands, she didn't acknowledge our handholding at all._

_Finally we had to tear our fingers apart – to eat. Both of us seemed to chew their meals rather quickly and soon our hands were clasped together again. The sensation was like coming home. Breathing felt easier and world looked brighter when he was touching me. And of course, there was the electric current which remained even when we weren't holding hands and caused the air around us to ripple and twist. _

_Sometime after the dinner I startlingly realized that it was quite late already – and I still needed the ride home. Edward felt me tense by his side on and asked what was the matter._

"_It's just getting late", I said, looking at him for the first time for what seemed like hours._

"_Do you want me to drive you home?" he asked and his voice sounded oddly hopeful and disappointed at the same time._

"_If it's not too much trouble."_

_With that he stood up and pulled me on my feet as well. Alice came to give me a hug and when I was close enough, she whispered:_

"_It was lovely meeting you. Thank you for forgiving him. He's an ass, but fortunately he knows that himself. " I blushed and said aloud:_

"_Thank you for calling me today, Alice, and for your help. You're a really good friend."_

_She beamed to me like a sun and demanded me to call her tomorrow – apparently we were going to go shopping. I promised to call and gave her one last hug before letting Edward lead me to the lobby to get my coat. He helped it on me, which felt weird and kind of old fashioned but also adorable as hell. It was like he'd known instinctively how to lure his way into my heart. I was ridiculously in love with him and for the first time I felt that maybe, just maybe, he might have felt something back._

_The drive to my house was silent – a very different kind of silent that I had ever experienced in his company. It was comfortable, but at the same time loaded with electricity and anticipation. Edward held my hand on top of the centre console and somehow the small gesture felt more intimate in the confines of his car than it was earlier in the house with his family. Looking straight at his face felt too bold, so I just stared at our intertwined fingers, stroking his thumb with mine lightly. _

_The journey ended much too soon, without either of us breaking the silence. He killed the engine and slowly turned to face me. I blushed under his blazing gaze and at the same time felt myself drowning into his green pools. And in equally slow motion he closed the gap between our faces and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was soft and sweet and absolutely perfect . I felt my lips part without my permission and his tongue gliding against my lower lip. Our hands were still clasped together and my free hand rose to his neck, to feel the unruly, silky hair there. His other hand appeared onto my waist, pulling me slightly closer._

_When we finally parted we were both panting and flushed and deliriously giddy. I bit my lip and smiled at him shyly. He was still holding my waist and my hand and my right forearm rested on his shoulder._

"_Can I call you tonight?" He asked eagerly and a little breathlessly. I thought he was very cute._

"_What kind of silly question is that?" I asked. As if I would be able to tell him no, no matter what he asked. His kiss had officially crumbled my will._

"_Just answer it, please", he said, smiling a little._

"_Of course you can. I want to hear your voice", I admitted a little ashamed. His left forefinger stroked my cheek gently._

"_Good."_

_He gave me one soft peck on my lips and then I stumbled out of the car. I stood on our porch, stunned and a little light-headed and watched as he drove away. Tonight I would talk to him and thank him for the drive home and for the dinner, but at the moment I just let myself feel. He would call me._

_He always called._

When I wake up the second time I'm not in the Recovery room anymore – I have been brought back to my private room and the dusk of twilight peeks at me through the window. I also notice that I'm not alone: Esme is sitting by my bed and she smiles widely when I see her.

"Good evening, Bella", she breathes and kisses my forehead. "Welcome back."

"You're here", I mumble groggily and rub my eyes with my IV- free hand.

"Yes, dear – Carlisle is on call tonight so I forced him to go home and have some sleep before that."

I groan quietly – poor Carlisle! He has to come back to hospital after spending there nearly two days without any sleep – on his free time. I feel ashamed to admit that I really couldn't have managed without him.

"And your dad called – he wanted to come and see you, too."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told that you were still asleep. He will be here tomorrow."

I sigh, thankful that I don't have to meet anyone else today. Dad would be insane with worry, I'm sure, and he doesn't even know about my pregnancy.

"Emily – I mean Dr Uley wanted to see you today, too. I understand that you had some questions for her. Do you want me to go and get her – I believe she's still in the hospital?"

"Yes please." I smile at Esme when she exits the room silently. She blows me a kiss and closes the door behind her.

I have nearly drifted off to sleep again, when Esme comes back followed by Emily who is dragging a big ultra sound machine behind her. I sit up tentatively. This is it.

"Hello, Bella", Emily greets me, smiling. I can see that she, too, is in need of a good night's sleep. I hope I'm not the only reason she is still here instead being at home with her husband.

"I thought that you might want to hear something." She plugs the machine in and we wait as it's warming up in silence. Esme has taken her previous seat next to my bed and is holding my hand. I push my blanket down from my abdomen and lift my gown under my breasts. I can see the wound now – or rather the small dressing on top of it. The skin around it looks bruised and ugly, yellowish purple. My belly looks slightly more round than it did yesterday – or whenever it was I last took a good look at it. Before I get to form the question in my still foggy brains, Emily says:

"Your stomach is a little swollen from the surgery – the tissue swelling should subside in a few days time. " I know that she tries to be comforting – but I really don't want the roundness to vanish. For the first time I actually _look _pregnant.

I just nod to her and smile nervously. She spurts some gel on the transducer and puts it on my belly. It feels like the whole room is holding its breath - and then I hear it.

"There we go", Emily says quietly as the rhythmic "thump-a-thump-a-thump" fills the room with breath-taking force. I feel the tears spilling to my cheeks and I don't even attempt to hide my silent sobs. Esme squeezes my hand and leans forward to look at the screen.

"Look, Bella!" she breathes. "Your baby is moving around like a little fish – I think he quite enjoys the attention." I fix my eyes to the screen, too, and look at the little figure twirling and turning under the pressure of the wand. I feel my own heart beating with the rhythm of baby's little heart. Quick, forceful and alive.

The door opens suddenly, but I don't even register it before the nurse clears her throat.

"Mrs. Cullen?" Esme and I both look up, but I can see that the nurse is looking at me.

"Yes?" I ask, still teary and smiling.

"We have your husband on the phone – would you like me to put him through?"


	8. Distance

_A/N: Thank you for my very talented beta Springlily86. _

_Again, thanks for the reviews and for subscribing, you lovely people. _

_Here's some EPOV for you._

_DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters or settings of Twilight world – only the storyline in this fic is mine. Everything else belongs to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended._

Distance

**Edward**

**100 miles from Baghdad**

This is getting extremely frustrating. Apparently Bella is not home – hasn't been whole day – but she doesn't answer to her cell either. She is offline when I check the Skype. Her adorable email has been sent yesterday. I am getting really worried, too. She hasn't missed my call once before this, no matter where she has been when I've called. There is also the time difference, I'll give her that, but I am pretty sure it's closer to eight o'clock pm in Washington now - Bella should be at home by now. _Where is she? _ Something is not right.

I groan aloud and hang my head in my hands. I am so worried about her that I feel tempted to run away from our camp and hop on the first plane to US. Not to mention that I miss her like crazy.

"You OK, Cullen?" Seth asks me, putting his hand briefly on my shoulder. He is a good kid, but really, only a kid. He's eighteen years old and the only one in our regiment who gets to be called by his first name, instead of surname or by some other less-than-flattering nicknames. He has finished high school a year early and took his first opportunity to decide for himself and what to do with his life. His parents aren't too happy.

I look up at him and force a smile. "Yeah. Just trying to get a hold on to people at home."

"No luck, huh?" He asks and takes a seat next to mine by the computer desk.

"Nope." I turn back to the desk and grab the satellite phone for the tenth time today. I'm really not in the mood for sympathy – however sincere that might be. After a while Seth stands up and takes his book and lies down on his bed. He doesn't seem offended but seems to understand. Despite his young age he's an old soul. He and I get along pretty well and he is supposed to accompany me today to my first assignment.

There is a small village in a few miles distance and one of our men has been trapped in to the ruins of a collapsed building for several days now. There is still a high risk of explosion and fire so getting him out alive without losing any more lives has turned out to be quite a challenge. He is in a surprisingly good shape – the rest of his group has managed to get him water and food, but he has wounded his leg quite badly in the explosion and they want somebody have a look at the wounds – that is if they manage to get me close enough. His legs are apparently basically invisible under the building material and are most likely impossible to get to.

Seth is going to be my back up in case things get…tricky. When things here get tricky it's always a catastrophe of some sort. And I'm still not very comfortable with my M16 – my goal is to survive the half-a-year using it as little as possible. I came to practice medicine. That seemed simple enough a plan back in States, but somehow things always appear more complex when you get close to them.

Maybe I should try my parent's place. They might know something about Bella's whereabouts. It's been a week since I last had a chance to talk to her and _anxious_ is far too mild a term to define my feelings at the moment – plus I have a horrible feeling that something's wrong.

The reception isn't too bad so I actually can hear Alice's voice quite clearly when she answers.

"Hi Al," I greet her and smile despite myself when she starts to squeal.

"Oh Edward! You're fine! You're alive! You're fine!"

"Yes, but my ears won't be if you don't tone it down a little, sis!" I laugh at her. "How are you guys?"

"Oh, I'm fine and Jasper is too – we are having the house ourselves, because mom and dad are in the hospital with Bella. I'm so glad you called – we were so worried about her."

Thousands of horrible pictures run through my head in an instant, each worse than the last.

"I'm sorry – is Bella in the hospital?" I demand and feel a chill creep up my spine.

"Oh, shoot – you don't know, do you?" Alice sounds a little worried. I want to shake the answer out of her.

"What is it, Al – is Bella—"

"Oh, I think she's fine _now_ – the operation must be over by now. Dad said it was a close call."

"The operation?" I repeat mechanically.

"Yes – she had something called appe...appedo..."

"Appendicitis?" I suggest with a horrible coldness in the pit of my stomach.

"YES! That's it. You should probably call to the hospital – maybe they'll let you to talk to her."

They'd better. I hang up after a hasty goodbye and call the number to Forks General. Carlisle has worked there for years and I remember the number by heart. I am beyond frantic now – and mad as hell for my parents for not letting me in the situation. Although, I also have a feeling that that might be exactly what Bella wanted. Knowing my tendency to freak out when ever her well- being is compromised she tries not give me any reason to worry – but Bella being Bella it's sometimes impossible. She is more prone to accidents than anyone I've ever known. And now I have one more precious person to be worried about. She is really going to be the death of me.

After a minute or so the operator puts me through to the nurse who works at the ward my wife is admitted to. I still have no idea what has happened and if she's OK and if we are still going to have an anniversary baby. I nearly crush the phone in my hand when I wait the nurse to answer.

Finally she does, and when I tell her my name she immediately puts two and two together. "Oh, Dr _Edward_ Cullen – it must be your wife we have here?"

"Yes!" I nearly shout. "Can I speak to her?" I really have to struggle to remain polite.

"I'll see if she's awake. Hold on please." Mellow piano music fills my ears for a few minutes – the longest few minutes in my life, I swear.

"I'll put you through now, Sir," the nurse states.

"Edward?" Bella's soft voice is like a balm to my anxious mind and I feel myself relax marginally.

"Bella!" I breathe and for one moment I think I might actually start crying from relief. I quickly regain whatever composure I have left and just enjoy her familiar, gentle voice.

"Oh, Edward – how did you know I was here?"

"I called Alice. It doesn't matter – tell me everything! How are you doing? Why the hell did no one call me? I swear to God – when I get hold on to my father-" I am suddenly so angry that I want to break something. Somebody's neck maybe?

"Oh, stop that, Edward. I'm perfectly OK," she says airily and even though she can't see me, I lift my eyebrows incredulously. She quickly continues: "It was appendicitis, but the operation went fine and baby is fine – and oh! You have to hear this." I hear rustling of clothes and hushed voices and then a distinct but at the same time a very clear _beating_. It's quite fast and makes a weird, wet noise so I immediately know who it belongs to. It is the heart of our baby. For a minute or so I just listen.

"Did you hear it?" Bella asks breathlessly after a while. There is a new softness in her voice and she sounds positively blissful.

"Yes I did, honey. He sounds quite a trooper – you both do." My voice is suddenly very husky. The sound of new life has amazingly calmed me down in mere moments.

"_She _is perfect. Slept through my whole surgery – although I think the drugs they gave me might have helped that."

"So you're still convinced it's a girl?" I ask smiling. My heart feels light as a feather for the first time in days.

"Oh, I don't know – I really don't mind either way. But she does have the most beautiful heartbeat, don't you think?" She sounds so happy and content that I have to laugh out of sheer giddiness.

"Yes, he does, my love."

"Oh – your mom says hi."

"Mom's there?"

"Yes – your parents have been so wonderful to me, Edward. I don't know how I'll ever thank them enough." I hear my mom's soothing voice from the background, undoubtedly shrugging off any thanks or apologies.

"They love you, Bella. You should let them take care of you."

"I know. I love them, too," she sighs. "Tell me, how are you doing? Are you OK?" Bella's voice is suddenly very worried. I won't have that.

"I'm just fine – don't you worry about me. We are still settling down here. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to contact you earlier this week, but the electricity was down for a few days and we needed all the phone lines free."

"Oh, that's OK then. I was just little...you know..." We fall into silence for a moment, both of us anxious to make sure that the other is fine, but not wanting to make the other worry too much.

"I miss you." It's me this time, who can't bare the silence longer. "I don't think you know how much."

"I miss you, too. Please, please take care of yourself – I need you back here." I can tell that Bella is close to tears again, although she tries to hide them under the smile in her voice.

"And hopefully I don't have to hospitalize myself again in order to get you to call me."

I fail to find anything funny about her joke.

"Tell me what happened, Bella," I plead. "I need to know." She sighs a little exasperated – like always when she thinks I'm overreacting - and I stifle a chuckle.

"Oh, you know me. I went to see Jake and we ate too much pizza."

She has seen Jacob Black. I don't particularly like that, but I hide my jealousy from Bella, like I always do when she talks about her childhood friend. It's stupid, really, to feel threatened by him. I just don't like sharing Bella and I have always sensed something funny about the way he acts around her – she, of course, can't see it, but I can. Jacob's feelings are far from platonic, that's for sure. However, I trust Bella and that should be enough for all of us.

"Sweetie, you can't get appendicitis from eating too much. Did you have stomach pains?"

"Not before yesterday. I have just been sick – I thought it was just because of my pregnancy. The stomach ache started after we finished the pizza and it was quite bad, too. I sort of blacked out."

I can only imagine how I'd felt had I been there when that happened. I lose all traces of my medical training whenever Bella's sick – it's kind of pathetic.

"Jake took me to hospital. I don't remember that much about it – I woke up on the way there, but the pain kind of made everything foggy and I just remember being worried about the baby. I'm happy that I was out when they took the blood tests and did all their investigations – you know how I hate needles and stuff." I can still hear the dismay in her voice. My poor girl.

"I know. But for somebody who hates hospitals so much you sure spend a lot of time in them," I can't help but tease her. "You even married a doctor!" She huffs angrily.

"Don't even start, Cullen. I'm outta here as soon as the let me. I still have that IV thingy in my hand and they won't take it off – I hate it!" I feel my heart swell at the sound of her kittenish ire and I have to laugh at her again.

"I'm sorry, Baby, but I think they are going to need that to sedate you in case you'll try to run away." I tease.

"They wouldn't!"

"I will personally ask your nurse to rope you in to bed for the remainder of your stay."

"Edwaa-aard!" She whines, although I hear the undercurrent of laughter in her voice. I feel a sudden surge of desire towards her – triggered, perhaps, by her begging voice and the always present longing inside my body and mind.

"I'm _certainly_ going to do that when I'm back home. We won't be leaving our bedroom for weeks." I whisper in a sultry voice. I see Seth raising his eyebrows at me and then virtually run out of the room.

"Is that so?" She purrs back. I definitely recognize _that _tone. "I think it might be the good doctor himself who is going to be the one to be tied down. In fact, I think you might have to clear your schedule for the next five years or so."

"Big words, Mrs. Cullen, big words. What did you plan to do the small matter of _our child_? Hire an all-day nanny so his parents can lock themselves inside their bedroom for good?"

"Oh, right." Bella falls into silence to reconsider her plan, which, in my opinion still has its benefits.

"Maybe we just need to settle to going at it like bunnies until the baby is born," I suggest, suddenly quite thankful that Seth has escaped earlier. "And at every change we get after that."

"You should be happy that you mom and former lab partner have left my room – this kind of talk isn't exactly appropriate in company," Bella laughs suddenly.

"My former lab partner?"

"Do you remember Emily from medical school? She's my OB/GYN now. Small world, huh?"

"Emily Young? She's your doctor?" I do remember Emily quite well – long, black hair, tall and beautiful, witty and funny. She was one of my best friends in college. Both of us were in a steady relationship so there wasn't anything romantic between us. But it was nice to talk to someone who understood the hell that is long-distance relationship. Her boyfriend lived in La Push back then and knew Jacob Black, too.

"Hello – are you still there?" Bella's alarmed voice calls me back from my musings.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Sweetheart – I just tried to remember her."

"She is Emily Uley now – she remembers_ you_ all right." Something in Bella's voice makes me smile widely.

"You're not _jealous, _are you, Bella?"

She huffs indignantly and I can almost see her adorable pout. "_No!_" Her tone tells me that I'm not that far off the mark.

"Good – because that would be rather silly. You know that I have been neatly wrapped around your little finger from the day one. I didn't really have eyes to anyone else. And Emily was engaged, too."

"She's really pretty," she says in a small voice. And I thought that I have managed to rid her of all her insecurities.

"True. But you're much prettier. And you are much more frightening when you get angry."

"So you're saying that you're with me because you're scared of me?"

"That's one of the many reasons. And when you get angry I get to be the one who cools you down. Not to mention all that make-up sex I get afterwards. It's really a quite decent bargain."

"Stop making fun of me. You're making my head hurt. "

"I'm sorry, Baby. I should let you sleep."

"I didn't mean that. I don't want you to go," she cries urgently, but can't quite stifle the yawn that follows her words. "I can sleep later."

"Would you like me to sing to you?" For some unknown reason Bella has always been very attached to my voice and is willing to do practically anything to hear me sing. I don't like to sing in public, but there is something very intimate and sensual about singing to Bella.

"Yes please. Hold on – I put you on the speaker phone so the baby can hear you, too."

I sing for them both then. I start with few silly fifties songs, continue with our wedding song and when I hear her steady breaths from the distance, I end with her lullaby.

"I love you," I tell her quietly and end the call.

_Ending things with Tanya made a little apprehensive to start a new teenage relationship with anyone, even the one I ended it for. Tanya and I had gone out since we were both fifteen. We weren't even friends before that, but somehow just ended up making out after the homecoming dance in our freshman year. She was funny and smart and pretty, so I enjoyed her company for quite a while. I liked her a lot and at the time a though that I loved her, too. _

_But more than I loved her I loved my solitude and I loved watching at people. It was intriguing to see how differently people acted depending on who they were talking to, what their intentions were and what they thought of themselves. I didn't need to be able to read minds to know who had a bad day, who had had a argument with their boyfriend or girlfriend, who was nervous about becoming exam and who was afraid what others thought about them. The last was something that applied to nearly everybody. High school is all about blending in, so obviously the opinion of friends and enemies are everything._

_The first time I noticed Isabella Swan was on the spring semester of our junior year. She hung out with her friends who were usually known as "the pack of nerds" amongst the student population. The only reason she had managed to escape my attention so far was because she preferred it that way. She was happy to be invisible. _

_It was a Tuesday in early March when I caught her eyeing me the cafeteria over her lunch tray and I was instantly captured by her huge, brown eyes. How could I not have noticed her before? She was beautiful – not like Rosalie or Tanya, who held the permanent position in all the locker room talk that went on in Forks High, but she was soft, fresh and natural. She dressed plainly and favoured jeans and sweaters, and hardly ever wore make up – and from the moment I saw her I was enchanted by her._

_Tanya didn't like her and was very displeased when I asked about her – apparently they had a class together. All I got out of Tanya was that Bella didn't talk much, that her best friend was Angela Weber and that her dad was the chief of police. When I saw how much my prying bothered Tanya I decided to forget the Swan girl and focus on my girlfriend when I still had one._

_I wished it would have been that easy. After being trapped in her eyes at the school cafeteria we seemed to run in to each other all the time. I pretended not to see her, although I was shaken by her flowery scent and slender body and fair skin all so close to me. I could see the chagrin in her eyes, but didn't really know how to avoid that without hurting Tanya. She couldn't understand my fascination about strangers and especially about Bella. Neither could I. The more I tried to get her out of my mind the more she seemed to occupy it._

_She was unlike anyone else I had ever met – and that was without knowing her at all. She didn't seem to care about the mind games, small but larger-than-life high school dramas or the changes on the picking order that went on in Forks High. She was easy enough to not to pay attention to when you didn't know about her as she preferred to stay out of spotlight, but once you'd _seen_ her she was impossible to forget. That, at least, was my humble opinion. _

_If one ignored her beauty – which was impossibility in itself as far as I was concerned – she had a whole arsenal of other appealing features which were equally captivating. She was kind to everybody – even to me the one time I had actually looked at her after passing her in the cafeteria. She had said "hi" in a shy voice, followed by adorable blush and lowered her eyes to the floor so that her eyelashes casted a long shadows on her red cheeks. I was so flustered by her voice that I didn't find my own in time to answer her – thus making her to think me as an arrogant prick. I might have been arrogant, but in my defence, at that moment I was nothing else but a besotted fool. _

_She was also smart – or bookish. Her intelligence was something she never bragged about, but it was definitely obvious. She was funny – Bella found always a way to make her little group friends laugh around her, whether it was at her or with her. And she was clumsy to a point it bordered disability. First I thought it was funny and cute, but then I started to worry – and that was a road that had no end. It seemed that there was always some part of her bandaged, bruised or scratched. "Accident-prone" didn't do her justice – she was more like a disaster waiting to happen._

_This was all I could get just by watching her secretly and listening people talking about her – although in all honesty that didn't happen often. She was very successful in her attempt at being invisible. To everybody else but me, that is._

_I managed to conceal my continuing stalkerish behaviour from Tanya fairly well – or so I thought. It had been almost a year since I first laid my eyes on Bella – without so much as greeting her - and everything seemed to go well between me and Tanya. As well as high school romances are capable of going. I drove her to and from school like a gentleman; we hung out with our friends together acting like a couple but didn't really spend that much time alone together and ended up making out like some horny teenagers after parties without ever actually going further than that. Neither one of us just wasn't ready. Or maybe it was just me – we never really talked about it._

_And then came that fateful Wednesday in the May of our senior year. It was pouring rain – nothing new in the town of Forks - and students ran from their vehicles to the school building covering themselves with umbrellas or school bags or newspapers. I sat inside my car waiting for Tanya to find something she was desperately looking for from her bag – it must have been the English paper we were assigned for previous week. Soft piano jazz had filled the car and I heard Tanya cursing under her breath. _

"_Do we have to listen to this fucking shit all the time?" I raised my eyebrows at her tone – she had bit of temper but she was rarely downright mean. "I mean – you never ask what I'd like to listen!" she went on, rummaging her bag furiously. _

"_It's my car," I stated as an explanation without wanting to be rude. Apparently Tanya didn't get that._

"_I know it's your fucking car, Edward – I'm just saying that you could be a bit more considerate towards other people!" _

_I was insulted. Around Tanya I was rarely selfish, we always ended up doing what she thought best. Usually it was what I wanted to do, too, but still. She was being unfair._

"_I'm sorry I like to listen what I want in my own car. Maybe you should drive your own if it bugs you that much." My voice was a little colder than I'd meant. After all, she was partially right. In my car we listened what I wanted._

"_Fuck you, Edward! You know my dad confiscated my car keys after that house party last month – thanks for rubbing that to my face, shithead!" Something was definitely off – Tanya was never this rude to me and she knew I wasn't big fan of swearing, unless absolutely necessary. That didn't mean I couldn't hold on my own when needed. Like now._

"_Is there any particular reason for you being an absolute bitch this morning? Are you having PMS or something?"_

"_Excuse me?" Tanya's voice raised a couple of octaves. "Did you just call me 'bitch'?" She sounded incredulous._

"_Did you just call me shithead?" I countered. _

_Tanya started to cry. Like any guy, I don't feel comfortable around crying females whether or not I'm the cause of the tears. Tanya cried often; usually when she got frustrated or so angry that she couldn't any other way to express it. I patted her back awkwardly._

"_I'm sorry, T. I shouldn't have said that." I apologised awkwardly. " Did you find what you were looking for?" I gestured towards her bag. She shook her head, sniffed and continued her rummaging._

_I stared out of the window, my mood remarkably darker than it had been when I woke up. I watched absent-mindedly as a red pick-up truck drove to the parking lot and I perked up slightly when I realized who it belonged to. _Bella_. I might have sighed that aloud._

_She hopped out of the car with her school bag, seemingly not remembering that it was raining cats and dogs. She stood there, in a pouring rain, apparently trying to decide the least hazardous way through the campus, which was now practically one huge puddle. I couldn't take my eyes off of her – she looked lovely. Bella was wearing a delightfully snug pair of jeans and a sapphire blue sweater under her denim jacket. The jacket was left open, so my eyes could freely run up and down of her slender body, where the rain had made the clothes cling to it like a second skin. Her hair was free as usual, and I could see the small curls that formed by her neck and temples. Her skin looked creamy and her eyes – well, I couldn't really see them from where I was sitting, but I didn't need to. She was beautiful beyond words and was in every way so far out of my reach that I didn't even feel bad about my infatuation towards her. _

_So fixated was I to the girl by the rusty truck that I had momentarily forgotten the one inside the silver Volvo. Tanya. I turned my head slowly and met her blue eyes. I knew then that she had seen what I had seen and worse – she had seen the way I had _looked_. I had the feeling that this wasn't the first time she' caught me. I felt that I should have said something - anything to save what was left of Tanya's trust towards me, but I couldn't find it in me. The only truth that existed was that I was in love with a girl who wasn't her. It was also the only truth that mattered and I just couldn't tell her that._

_Turns out that I didn't need to. She took one more look at my face, then at the small brunette who was now cautiously walking through the parking lot, and then back at me._

"_Bella Swan? Really?" That was all she said, before, forcing on the pensive mask she wore from that day onwards. We didn't break up – not with words – but that was the last time Tanya sat in my car. Actually it might have been the last time she ever spoke to me, but I can't be sure – if she ever said anything, it was nothing that would have changed anything. When I didn't reply to her at the car, she read the right answer from my face. _

"_I knew it." She took her bag, got out and strode quickly to the school building._

_I felt awful – not because of our relationship, but about the way I had treated Tanya. I had come as close to cheating on her as one can without actually doing anything._

_We still hung out with Emmet and Rose, because Emmet was my brother and Rose was Tanya's best friend, but that was it. And after the thing in the movie theatre happened, with the spilled coke and the 'moment' between me and Bella, I think it was pretty obvious to everybody involved that I was head over heels in love with a girl I had barely ever spoken to. Emmet made fun of me mercilessly, especially when he found out that the 'sappy, whiny and melodramatic' song I kept playing with my piano was titled 'Bella's lullaby'. After that he told me to 'grow a pair and ask the girl out'._

_So I did. _

"Cullen?" Seth has returned to the room and is putting on his gear. "You ready to go?"

"Sure. I'll just get my stuff." I plan to travel as lightly as possible – it's boiling hot outside and the working circumstances are going to be a bitch as it is. Any extra package is going to be a hindrance. I put the vest on top of my T-shirt and re-lace my boots.

We manage to load the Jeep rather quickly and to head to the main road without interruptions. I am already sweating in my seat, partly out of hotness, partly of nervousness. It would be foolish to deny being afraid – a moderate portion of fear is one of the most important tools one can have here in order to stay alive. It doesn't matter that the little town we are in has lately been relatively peaceful. The main purpose of our regiment is to maintain that peace – sometimes with guns.

Finding the village is easy enough. We only have to follow the bumpy main road to the only still standing buildings of the neighbourhood. We get stopped by couple of our guards and after explaining the purpose of our visit they gladly let us pass to the narrow village road.

Sergeant Tommy Keegan is surrounded by his men at the ruins of a recently collapsed building. Only his head, shoulders and chest are visible above the pile of bricks and cement and guys have just an hour earlier managed to free his right hand. He is in pain - that much is very easy to tell of the set of his jaw and the barely audible grunts he is uttering every now and then.

I perform as thorough examination of his injuries as possible under the circumstances. Tommy's men have created a rather decent shadow over him with blankets and sheets, but there is no way of getting rid of the scorching warmth of the sun. Tommy is running high temperature and sweating both because of the fever and the weather. I manage to start IV antibiotics to him using his free hand and hang a bag of fluids after the first dose of the medicine has run through. Still – the antibiotics are of no use as long as I don't have the chance to treat the source of the infection. His legs are buried deep in the ruins and even though Tommy tells that he can still feel them and even move them a little bit it's only a matter of time when it's too late for his injured leg. It is unbelievably frustrating.

After hearing the news about Bella and feeling utterly helpless on the other side of the world I simply need to make myself useful somehow – and I'll be damned if I let this man die of infection when there is so simple way to treat it. I only need to see the leg.

"OK, guys", I say after starting the fluid infusion. "I have a job for you: dig Tommy out of this."

"What d'ya think we've been doin' here, Doc?" One of the guys sneers at me. "Ya do know that this thing can either explode or collapse again any minute?"

"I know. But I only need to see his legs – my medicines and tricks are useless if I can't clean the wound. So – let's get to it."

Suicide mission is perhaps the only apt expression to describe the work that is ahead of us. I don't wait for the others to join me, but start throwing away the chunks of cement and brick wall and I listen the snaps and hisses and groans coming out of the depths of the ruins with growing anxiety.

Tommy follows my movements with heavy-lidded eyes and his breathing is getting more and more laborious. He hasn't said a single word since my arrival and I doubt that he's been even wholly conscious the whole time.

That's why it's such a surprise when he suddenly starts to talk.

"Hey – Doc?" His voice is raspy and hoarse of the dust and the lack of use.

I raise my head. "Sir?" He is still my superior, after all.

"Just - Just say Tommy."

"Tommy? How're you holdin' up there?"

"Could be worse, I guess", he says and after thinking about it he adds: "Though I don't know how, but still..." He lets out a wry laugh, which turns to a fit of coughs.

"We're getting you out of here, Tom – I pr-"

"Do you have kids, Doc?"

I wipe my wet forehead on my sleeve. The others have returned to their digging at the further part of the building and are not paying any attention to us.

"No – I mean...my wife's pregnant. Our first." Even when I say it aloud it's somehow hard to believe. I remember the sound of baby's heart beat on the phone and can't help smiling a little.

"I have six."

"Wow." I can't figure anything else to say. Six kids? And he can't be that much older than I am.

"They're staying with my sister – her man has been shipped to Afghanistan, so they're in this together..."

"It's good that you're wife has somebody to talk to, then," I state lamely and think about my Bella – does she have anyone to talk to? Other than my mom and my sister?

"Yeah...I sometimes think that she must hate me," Tommy continues his monologue in a rueful tone. "I mean she didn't want me to go in the first place – our youngest is only six months old – but she has been nothing but supportive after it was clear I really didn't have a choice. And it must be hell to be afraid for somebody all the time."

I can't find anything to say and get soon lost into my own thoughts. Thoughts of beautiful, wide brown eyes, heart-shaped face, creamy skin and soft, feminine body. Even painful, thoughts of Bella nearly always make me smile. So I'm smiling when the bullet pierces my shoulder and find it hard to comprehend the alarmed shouts and yells of the other guys. Suddenly I can't see anything and realize with a delay that the pile of rocks I've been standing on is no longer there.

_Bella,_ I think incoherently. I may have said that aloud. Darkness follows quickly.


	9. Intuition

_A/N: Hello there. Again, I do not own anything in Twilight universe, only this storyline is mine._

_My humble gratitude goes to my splendid beta Springlily86._

_Enjoy._

Intuition

I don't know if my nearly constant whining has anything to do with my rather abrupt release from the hospital. Two days after my surgery Wendy marches to my room and unceremoniously removes my IV and hands me a brochure titled "Post-operative wound care at home".

"What's this?" I ask bemused and wave the leaflet on my hand. "Am I being discharged?"

"Yes. I was under the impression that you hated hospitals." Wendy's dry statement makes my cheeks colour up. I guess she must have been the one to whom I have complained the most. I have almost grown to like her – she seems to think that any compassionate word offered to a patient is a wasted effort. Wendy isn't exactly the handholding type of nurses supposedly usually are, but she has a sense of humour. She also doesn't hover. I get enough fussing from my in-laws and from my father who raced to the Forks General Hospital the minute Carlisle let him in my situation. He is ecstatic about the baby – after he got over the "I'm going to kill him" phase. I still have to laugh a little when I remember telling him my news.

"_So –Dad," I began, after he had settled into his chair by my bed and calmed down a little. It took both Esme and Carlisle to convince Charlie that not calling him the night before had been the right thing to do. There truly was nothing that he could have done for me then._

"_I have some news for you." Dad looked rather weary when he raised his head to look at me. For a moment I felt bad for him – poor man had had a rough day already. But I wanted him to know, too._

"_Well, kid, after what I've been through today, I sure hope the news is good," he grumbled._

"_It is – or I think so." I bit my lower lip to fight the huge smile that threatened to split my face in two._

"_Dad - we're going to have a baby."_

_Charlie was completely mute for a while. He just sat there and opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water._

"_Dad?"_

"_Wow," he said finally and swallowed thickly. "That sure is good news, Bells."_

"_I know," I beamed and stroked my gown covered belly fondly. Charlie had started to grin widely, but suddenly seemed to realize something._

"_Although – the timing could be better, don't you think? I mean, Edward is away and..."_

"_I know, I know." I really didn't need a reminder of that, even though everybody seemed to think I did. "This wasn't exactly...planned."_

_Dad started to look uncomfortable and I knew I had reached his too-much-information –limit. He prefers to know as little as possible about his daughter's married life; as long as he knows I am happy, he is, too._

"_Just let me know if you need anything, kid." I could tell that he was still deeply in thoughts._

"_What is it, Charlie?"_

"_It's just...is it completely wrong from me wanting to kill the guy who got my girl pregnant and then left her – even for the most honourable of reasons?" He seemed to be a little ashamed. _

"_Dad! Edward didn't leave me! He didn't know either, we found out at the very last minute. And he is more involved to this than lot of the guys that are actually physically there for their pregnant wives."_

"_I'm sure he is. But Bella...I hate to bring this up, but what if something happens?" Dad's voice was now gentler and he took my hand in his. "I mean – it is a war zone, honey."_

_Now it was my turn to swallow unnecessarily. I had decided not to begin that particular train of thought, and I absolutely refused to discuss it now._

"_I know," I said curtly. "But nothing is going to happen." Charlie looked sceptical, but knew me well enough to not to try to talk about it anymore._

"_SO -" he said instead, grinning again. "I guess... I guess that means I'm going to be a Grandpa. Huh."_

_I smiled back at him and gave his hand a squeeze. "And Renee is going to be a Grandma," I added._

_Charlie stared me for a moment without blinking and then he was roaring with laughter. "Well I'll say!" _

***

Wendy waits outside the door while I use the bathroom the last time and then helps me to a wheel chair. "Hospital policy," she states as an explanation when I start to grumble about it. I still have to wait to see my doctor to be discharged and I can't help but wonder which one of the many lab coats I've met since my arrival it's going to be this time.

My relief is imminent when Carlisle steps into the room. He's holding my discharge papers in his other hand, the other arm carrying his neatly folded white coat.

"OK, Bella – are you ready to go home?" he asks.

"Yes, please!" I say eagerly. I've never been more ready in my life.

"Good. I've taken care of everything, so if Wendy just helps you to the front door we can get going." Wendy pushes my chair through the busy corridors of the surgical ward and Carlisle helps me to climb inside his car that is waiting for us at the front of the hospital.

"Bella!" Alice squeals as soon as I get in to the back seat. She has most likely been under strict orders to wait me inside the car as there is now way she would have stayed in there otherwise. She gives me a fierce hug and kisses me on a cheek. "I've missed you!"

Alice's cheerful chatter keeps me company on our way home. Carlisle agrees to let me stay in my own home alone if I promise to let him or Esme check on me often. I already miss the solitude of our little home – I want to change to my favourite sweats and Edward's old college t-shirt and lounge in our living-room and wait for my husband to call me. I am still nearly ecstatic about his last phone call – for him to call the moment I heard our child's heart beat for the very first time! Perfect timings aren't usually our thing; quite the opposite actually. That's why it's so easy to appreciate those rare moments. Somewhere deep inside I am also afraid that we may have to pay for it dearly in the future.

After making plans to meet Alice the next day I am finally alone. As I change out of my jeans and sweater I can't help but checking my profile from the big mirror in our bed room. The bump is still there. I have firmly decided to ignore Emily's words about post-operative swelling and admire my definitely _pregnant _reflection with awe. I stroke my belly gently and for the first time it actually feels like there is somebody inside. In me. Someone new and strange and at the same time familiar. I don't know how long I just stand there in front of the mirror – it may be minutes or it may be hours. Just me and my child.

Finally I manage to tear myself away from my reflection and put on some clothes. Edward's college t-shirt is in laundry and for a moment I actually consider going to my own closet. It doesn't appeal to me in the slightest. With a sigh I start to raid Edward's wardrobe to find something comfortable to wear. I press my nose into his dress shirts and inhale his lingering scent. Even straight from laundry and after sitting in his closet for weeks I can still smell the honey and sunshine from his clothes. It is a vague reminder of the feeling of his embrace.

I choose one of his favourite oxfords – it's not like he's going to need it anytime soon – and pair of cut-off sweatpants he probably doesn't even know he has - which is likely the only excuse for their existence. Edward isn't vain by any means but he considers dressing well a part of polite manners. He couldn't care less how I'm dressed...unless I'm _un_dressed. Yeah. He really likes blue lace on me.

It's good to be home. I soon find myself from the nursery which is still just an empty floor and unpainted walls. I have dragged an old rocking chair from the attic which used to be in my room at Charlie's, and placed it to the far corner of the nursery, next to the window. There is also a fluffy matt and a mismatched ottoman from the previous occupier of our house. I sit down on the chair and raise my feet on the ottoman and rest my head against the back wall. It' quiet but not too quiet. There is always some noise in an old house, they say.

I let the sleep take me.

_Edward didn't call. I stared at the telephone in our living room the whole evening, willing it to ring, but it didn't. Fortunately Charlie wasn't at home; he would have thought I had gone crazy. I just couldn't believe that after all that had happened today and particularly after a certain _kiss _and a promise to call, he didn't. I waited until ten o'clock and then gave up. He had asked me if he could call me tonight, so I sure as hell wouldn't call HIM._

_Needless to say, I was miserable. I tried to think that maybe something had happened so he just couldn't make the call or maybe he had dialled the number wrong or...But every explanation had to face the same question: what if he just didn't want to call?_

_Sleep escaped me that night. I just lay in my bed and fought against the tears of disappointment, betrayal and heartbreak. I knew I wasn't good enough to be his girlfriend. I wasn't pretty or fashionable or popular – all those things Edward was and Tanya, too. We would have been ridiculously mismatched couple, I could see that now. Maybe he saw that, too._

_The reasoning didn't help. My heart was broken, even though I couldn't admit that to myself. I didn't know the rules of friendship between a high school heartthrob and an outcast – maybe a kiss was all I could ever have. It certainly was more that I had dreamed of. I tossed and turned all night and finally fell to a restless slumber around five am._

_I was startled awake by a funny noise – it sounded a lot like something or somebody had moved right outside my window. There were an ancient oak couple of feet away from it and sometimes on a particularly windy weather the branches brushed against the glass lightly. This sounded nothing like it. I clutched my blankets around me and didn't dare to move. Somebody was definitely outside – and I was home alone.__I couldn't help but think of the irony of being murdered in my father's house, who just so happened to be chief of police in a town that only had three thousand inhabitants . Just my luck._

_I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on my ragged breathing. Like in a bad movie I heard the window being pushed open and the thump-thump noise of feet dropping to a floor. Then I heard the window close. And then silence. Only it wasn't an actual silence – now the room was filled with sounds of two people breathing. Just when I finally begun to open my eyes, the intruder spoke._

"_Bella?"_

_It was Edward. Edward freakin' Cullen._

"_Wh-?" I couldn't form a coherent sentence and for a moment I just looked at where he stood still by the window, hair wet from the rain, wearing jeans and a parka and an expression that could only be prescribed as anxious. God knew what _he _had to be anxious about – I was the one whose personal space) was being rudely invaded._

_He looked back at me, his green eyes smouldering in the darkness of my room. I waited for an explanation or perhaps for this dream to end and for me to wake up, as I wasn't one hundred percent sure that I wasn't dreaming – and if I was, whether or not this was a nightmare. Although I had to admit that any nightmare with Edward in it was better than a good dream without him – as pathetic as that was _

"_Bella?" He said again and this time he took a tentative step to my direction. "I – I can explain."_

"_What?" I asked stupidly. I didn't know if he meant not calling to me or his rather unexpected visit. _

"_Can I sit down?" He glanced around my tiny room and his gaze stopped at an old rocking chair next to my bed._

_I swallowed and nodded mutely._

"_I'm sorry," he begun and as I sat up a little I could see his face and tell that he looked sincere. "I shouldn't have - I mean I guess I shouldn't have come here in the middle of the night and I should have asked first..."_

"_And you could have used the door," I offered helpfully as soon as I found my voice again._

"_Yes," he whispered and hung his head. He looked quite adorable. I debated with myself about whether or not let him know that I had forgiven him the moment I saw him in my room. I decided to let him suffer a little longer, if for no reason other than how cute it made him look._

"_I thought somebody was coming to murder me," I confessed._

"_Like who? Do you have like mortal enemies or something?" Edward snorted a little bit and I was very happy not to have granted the instant absolution aloud. He didn't deserve it._

"_No. But there are some crazy people around..." I said, annoyed to myself for sounding so ridiculous. "Anyway – you were apologising."_

"_Yes. I am sorry that I scared you." His voice was severe and humble._

"_I didn't say that you scared me – I said that I thought you were a serial killer."_

"_And that didn't scare you?" Edward sounded half shocked, half amused._

"_I didn't have time to be afraid – it happened so suddenly. I was just getting to the part where I actually react."_

_Edward looked at me for a second and then threw his head back and laughed heartily. "You are a really weird girl, Bella Swan." His voice made it sound little like a compliment._

"_I'm not the one who breaks in to people's houses in the middle of the night," I stated._

_I watched as Edward pondered something for a moment and then a look lot like determination flashed in his eyes. Suddenly he stood up and walked to my bed. "Move," he ordered. _

"_Pardon?" _

_Without further ado he lifted the blanket I had released from my fingers and slipped underneath it. I moved to the side, again stunned to silence. Edward leaned his back against the headboard, folded his arms behind his neck and sighed contently. My eyebrows shot to my hairline and I felt my mouth drop open._

"_What are you doing?"_

"_I'm making myself comfortable. Do you mind?" he nudged a pillow by my feet. God knows how it had gotten there – maybe I had subconsciously planned to use it as a weapon?_

"_Again –what?"_

_He took the pillow and propped it behind his back. "Ahhh..." he sighed. "Much better."_

_He turned to face me and he had a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "What? I just wanted to be as comfortable as you when we talk."_

"_Talk about what?" I asked, still confused._

"_Well-, " his face was positively devious by now. "Actually I was thinking more about kissing than anything else." _

_And then he kissed me. This time I was completely unprepared, even though his words were obviously meant to be a warning – unfortunately they came a bit too late. By the time I realized what he was doing I was already taken over by the primal side of me and kissing him back like my life depended on it. It might as well have._

_We kissed for a while – first our kisses were a little hasty and awkward, although not lacking enthusiasm and after a few rather embarrassing trysts we finally began to learn to expect each other's responses and come up for air regularly. I ranked making out – making out with Edward – as my new favourite past time._

_Finally our kisses started to get lazier, softer and less urgent and then we just dropped to our backs, both letting out a sigh of contentment. I let him just hold my hand in his, waiting for my breath to slow down and my heart to calm. It didn't – Edward's warm body beside mine on my narrow bed made sure of that._

"_That was fun," he finally said, chuckling and sounding a little too smug for my liking. And "fun" wasn't exactly the sentiment I was going for here. I didn't answer him._

"_Did you...enjoy it?" he asked, a little insecure, when I remained silent. _

"_Yes." I was still a little breathless. After the kiss induced fog started to dissipate in my head, I realized that we still needed to talk. I didn't know how to play this game – feigning non-chalance and disinterest when I was in fact head over heels in to somebody who I'd just been kissing. _

"_I enjoyed it." My voice was a little firmer now, a small smile tugging my lips._

_I felt his hand squeeze mine and saw a wide, rather goofy grin spread to his face. He looked like an idiot with a sex hair._

"_Good. I've told to be a decent kisser," he said looking self- satisfied, seemingly without a thought. _

_A memory of him and Tanya kissing passionately at the junior prom flashed in my head and my voice was full of acid when I uttered between my gritted teeth: "Have you now?" Before he had a chance to defend himself, I went on, my tone cold as ice:_

"_And how, pray tell, did I do? Because I, as you probably already know, sadly lack that kind of experience and I'm sure I would benefit from a feedback from a _vetera_n such as yourself."_

_Edward stared at me wide-eyed and, to my deep satisfaction, looked a little alarmed. Served him right._

"_I –You...I think you were great?" he stuttered, phrasing it like a question._

"_I suppose I should be grateful for learning from the best then," I said with heavy sarcasm._

"_Bella," he prayed. "Please – I'm sorry – I didn't mean to offend you. I really think you were amazing, much better than...I mean I'd love to kiss you again!" Edward turned to his side, facing me and taking my other hand to his as well. His eyes were pleading and earnest and I'll be damned if I could stay angry at him for more than few minutes at a time. Cheating bastard._

"_Maybe later," I said, resigned. "We need to talk first." _

_Silence. Edward stared at me, expectantly._

"_Yes?"_

_I groaned exasperatedly. "WE need to talk, Edward. Not me. You can start by explaining why you didn't call despite your promise and then continue by justifying this breaking and entering act – which was, by the way, a really stupid thing to do. What if my dad had been at home? He has a_ gun_, Edward!" I felt a chill creep up my spine even thinking the scenario of my dad being the one welcoming him._

"_Ok." Edward looked a little flustered. "Sorry 'bout that. I really, really meant to call you, Bella, but when I thought about it I just wanted to see you. So I kind of...tried to gain enough courage to actually come and see you and when I finally did it was too late to call anyway so I just figured that I would at least come and see if you were still awake...and I guess I didn't really think it through." He sounded ashamed and I felt a little bad for him._

"_Fine. But next time you want to visit you can just, you know, use the door. Or at least call me before climbing through my window. There's only so many heart attacks one can endure on one life time."_

"'_K." He nodded humbly, a big tuft of hair falling on to his face. I slowly raised my hand to swipe it off. It felt unbelievably soft._

"_You could have hurt yourself," I added gently. "The tree is really high."_

_Edward scoffed softly, rolling his eyes. "I've had worse. Besides, it was quite easy, climbing up that oak. You should really consider locking your window. It doesn't take a professional to get in the house." The thought of someone other than Edward – someone hostile – coming in from that window in the middle of the night made me shudder. Edward raised his arm and then hesitantly pulled me closer to his body. The gesture was awkward but very sweet and I pressed my cheek lightly against his chest. For a moment we just rested like that and I could hear his heart beating by my ear._

"_I'm sorry." He spoke the words to my hair and this time my shiver had nothing to do with terror. He pulled me even closer._

"_It's ok." My voice was sleepy and I had to stifle a yawn. Laying in Edward's arms, leaning on to his broad chest felt incredibly comfortable and very, very natural._

"_You should go back to sleep," he said, kissing my hair. "It's only six in the morning."_

"_Will you be here when I wake up?" I asked, too tired to feel embarrassed about my neediness._

"_Where else am I gonna go?" I heard before sleep took me. _

Doorbell wakes me up from my little slumber and I stumble my way to the door. I hope that whoever that is isn't expecting very formal welcome, as the hostess is currently wearing her husband's clothes and hasn't had a shower in two days.

"Jake!" I exclaim as soon as I recognize his huge form at the porch. I fly to his arms and he hugs me back laughing.

"Missed me, did you?" He lets me grab his hand and drag him into the house, all the while chuckling good-naturedly. He sits down next to me on the living-room couch without releasing my hand.

"I heard that you're back from the hospital – Charlie was all proud papa when he came over this morning."

"I should have known – he and Billy are worse than old women when it comes to gossiping," I groan laughing.

"He was real worried about you. And so was Billy. And myself, obviously."

"Bella," he says after a short, comfortable silence. "I wanted to talk about something."

I bite my bottom lip – a nervous habit – and suddenly the thoughtlessness of my overenthusiastic welcome dawns to me. It has been merely three days since his _confession _– and already I'm acting like he never said anything. The thing is – I truly want to forget what he said and move past it; I want our easy, effortless friendship to stay intact and I need his presence in my life now more than ever. But it's too soon.

"Jake – I'm so sorry!" I breathe as soon as this all comes clear. I drop his hand from my grasp and make a move to stand up.

"No, wait!" He says and pulls me back next to him. "I want – I need to apologise too."

"No y-" I try to interrupt but Jake holds up his hand.

"Bells – just let me speak, ok?"

I look up at him and nod nervously.

"Bells, I'm so sorry about...the things I said the other day. I mean – I can't help what I feel, but...it wasn't – appropriate for me to throw everything on your face without warning."

"Jake – you have nothing to apologise!" I can't stay quiet any longer. "I just want you to be happy, and it kills me that you – you..." Great. I'm fighting back tears again.

"But I AM happy, Bells!" Jake says earnestly and grabs my hand again. "I'm not broody by nature like...some other guys you might know. Caring about you – loving you – has been the best thing that ever happened to me. Sure, there's times when I hope I could just hate you or forget you all together, and I may never be able to think very fondly about that man of yours - but most of the time I am honestly _happy_." He brushes a lone tear from my cheek and then pinches it playfully. "You are my best friend. Knowing that you don't share my feelings, being friends is the next best thing."

I am still feeling very uncomfortable. Of course I love Jacob – as I love Angela and Alice and my other friends. I have always felt some deeper connection with Jake – he is my kindred spirit. He is also my oldest friend and like a brother to me. I'm sure that our fathers had their own little plans for us when we were younger, but after Edward came along no one questioned his position in my life. I belong to Edward as I have never belonged to anyone else – even Jacob.

"Jake – are you sure you're ok with this – this?"

"Bells, honey – yes, I'm sure. You keep forgetting that I've done this for twenty years now. I'm good." He laughs at his own words, but I fail to find anything funny about the situation. Twenty years of unrequited love – surely there must be some limit for the torture one person can cast upon another, however unintentionally. And the worst thing is that now that I _do_ know about his feelings, I feel that I should have known all along – the signs were there all this time. My first clue should have been the fact that Jake has never had a girl friend. Sure – he has dated some girls over the years, but has never had anything serious with them, as far as I know. Also, my husband is very talented judge of character and he has always been suspicious about Jacob's true feelings for me. He knows he's a good man – otherwise he wouldn't let us hang out together that much and wouldn't even bother trying to hide his dislike. I also know that Edward is very possessive about me around other men – a total turn on most of the time – but I have never even considered that he would have any true reason for it. I just thought it was sexy.

Suddenly every single little gesture and word and look from Jake gets a whole new meaning and I don't know what to think of them. I also feel a bit betrayed. All this time I have thought that we were honest to each other!

"What do you think?" Jake asks when I'm quiet for a long time. "Do you still want to be my friend?"

The question is thrown lightly, but I sense the urgency, the seriousness of it. This is not just about friendship – even if it is for me. Jake needs me in his life; he needs the chance to love me in his own way - exclusively. And by doing so he effectively denies himself the chance to ever falling in love with anyone else. It's not healthy. With breaking heart I realize that in order to get some kind of closure for his feelings he needs some distance – he doesn't want it, but he most definitely needs it. And I'm going to give it to him.

"Jake – ," I begin, looking desperately for the right words. I squeeze his hand in mine and search for his eyes. "Twenty years – that's a long time. Long time for such intense feelings. I mean – love can be healing and at its best it's a life maintaining force – and I really, really want that for you, Jake."

He listens to me now. I can tell that he is absorbing every word I say and with a start I also realize that that's the way he always listen to me – like he doesn't want to lose a single word. I have been so blind. It's time to fix this.

"Loving somebody for decades without getting anything from it but heart ache – that's not healthy. It would be different if there were even a slight chance that it wasn't one-sided, but we both know that that is not the case here." The cruelty of my own words stabs me worse than the stomach pain I experienced just few days ago. I see the same pain flashing in Jacobs eyes.

"You need to move on, Jake. I don't want you to waste all those wonderful feelings to me. I am so grateful and – and - touched and more than flattered that you have loved me for so long, but I won't let that go on any longer."

Jake looks alarmed. "What are you saying, Bells?"

"I think it'd be better if we didn't see each other for a while. In order to save our friendship I think that's the right thing to do."

I expect Jake to argue with me, to disagree, but he doesn't. He hangs his head and I can see him swallow with difficulty. I also see something small and shiny on his cheek. I am very close to crying, myself.

"Jake?" I whisper.

"Are – are you breaking up with me, Bells?" he asks and laughs brokenly.

"Yes," I sniff and can't help but giggle. "But as soon as you get over me, we can see each other again."

"Don't hold your breath." His voice is darker now. I throw my arms around him and we hug each other silently for a while.

"I've been so selfish, Jake," I confess quietly. "You have always been there for me and I've needed your friendship so much. Believe me, I wouldn't do this if it didn't mean so much for me."

"You know – I get you, Bells." Jacob looks at me now, the unshed tears shimmering in his eyes but with unwavering voice. "I used to be so bitter about all this – about how you've never given me a chance – but never really appreciated what we already had. I think your Edward made me realize that if you were capable of that kind of love – the kind you two have – you really shouldn't settle on anything less. You deserve the best, Bella, and for you I honestly think it's Edward. Now I'm sure I love you just as much as he does – " he holds his hand up again to stop me from interrupting. " But the thing you two have together – that's something special."

"I know." I have to smile a little smugly.

"I said that I get that – in my head. As soon as I get it in my heart too, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"You just need time."

"And maybe some distraction."

"Like a hot date. Or two."

We are laughing again, and when Jacob finally leaves, I feel much lighter. I'm sure he will be fine, but I, on the other hand...I'll miss him. Somehow even knowing that I'm doing the right thing doesn't take that hollow feeling away. Maybe I need time too.

"Bella." Alice drops herself on my bed and from her look I can tell that she is going to tell me off. Most likely the reason is going to be my wardrobe.

I am dead right.

"What is _that_, exactly?" she asks and gestures to my sweatpants-and-oxford –attire. "Didn't we just buy you a nice selection of beautiful maternity clothes? What would Edward think if he saw you right now?"

"Honestly, Alice," I sigh a little exasperated. "I think he couldn't care less. Besides, he likes when I wear his clothes."

"No, he likes when you wear his shirt on top of some sexy lingerie – not his cast-off pants and some random button-down. You have to know _how_ to wear it."

"I find it highly disturbing that you pretend to know what my husband – your _brother – _thinks as sexy."

"I'm talking about men in general, Bella, and yours is not that special."

"I beg to differ."

"I mean that when it comes to bedroom fashion, I'm sure he is much less extra-ordinary than you seem to think."

"Not true."

"WHAT I MEAN is that if he is like every other Cullen man – and a certain Whitlock – he likes it simple."

"This is simple." I clutching the hem of my shirt defensively, in case my insane sister- in-law decides to try and rip it off of me. I wouldn't be surprised.

"No, that is – I don't know what it is, but definitely not the look we are going for here. From now on you're forbidden to wear any of your husband's clothes unless it's solely for seduction purposes. "

"Excuse me?" I ask incredulously. Is she seriously making an attempt to dictate what I'm wearing at my own house, when I'm _alone?_ Again, I shouldn't be surprised.

"Bella – you never know who might come to visit during the day!" She exclaims almost angrily. Suddenly she gasps, horrified.

"Bells, please, please tell me you didn't wear _that_ when Jacob Black was here earlier today!"

I blush and bite my lip.

"Isabella Marie Cullen! What were you _thinking_?" Alice wails desperately.

"Oh, come on, Al! I have just been released from a hospital and I've not even had a shower since. And Jacob has seen me far worse."

"I don't know why I even bother." Alice flops back to my bed with a dramatic sigh. She enjoys these little 'fashion fits' of hers far too much. We both know that when it comes to clothes and make up and looking good in general I am a lost cause, but it doesn't keep her from trying. I only want my clothes to be comfortable and _me, _and on her list of priorities those two don't even make it to the top ten.

"I mean –, " she continues, "you're look is that nice-girl-next-door and you rock that pretty well. The thing is - I know you also have this hot-and-totally- in-desperate-housewife- thing in you and I WILL unveil it – or die trying."

I lie down next to Alice and throw an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe we should wait until Edward's home for that, Al. I think he might appreciate it more than I do."

"But I want you to rock that look too, to be confident. I want him to jizz himself when he sees you. Literally. Feel like he has to have you right there..." Alice is starting to look frighteningly intense as she goes on.

"Whoa, whoa – stop right there, Miss Creepy McGross! Do I have to remind you _again_ that this is your brother we are talking about?" Even though I know that she is most likely associating that vision with something which includes her and Jasper instead of me and Edward, it's still a little scary.

Alice scoffs indignantly. "Seriously, Bella – I'm thinking about you, not him."

"How is that any less creepy?"

"I can't believe that you have been married to a Cullen for a several years now and are still not embracing your sexuality!" Alice stares me incredulously.

"I _am_ embracing my sexuality!" I say a little less confidently than I intended. "I just –I just don't need the – the... rest of the world to embrace it with me." My voice gets smaller and smaller towards the end.

Alice has the courtesy of looking worried for a moment. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes. I'm glad you finally got that. Not everyone of us consider oral sex suitable topic of conversation on a dinner table," I grumble, referring to a rather recent event occurring at one of the Sunday dinners at the Cullen Mansion – starting as a playful chat between Rose and Alice but ending up a almost scientific debate engaging the whole extended family. Except me and Edward, who undoubtedly would have loved to offer his insight, had it not been my furious glances and rather painful kicking of his shins under the table. It was awkward enough to be involuntarily privy to your in-laws' sex lives without adding stories of our own to the mix. I mean – there has to be _some_ boundaries, right_? _

"But I don't mean to do that – really I don't," Alice claims defensively. " It's just – we discuss about sex very openly in our family. You know that, Bella, you are part of the family, too. I don't mean to pry, or invade your personal whatever – it's just – I'm really good at that stuff, Bella!" Her earnest statement in the end cracks me up. I start to giggle uncontrollably and soon we both are laughing and cackling like a pair of teenagers.

"Ask Jazz – he'll tell ya!" Alice manages in between giggles.

"Oh, I believe you. And if you have to know – Edward is really good at that stuff, too!" My face lights up when I say that and Alice smiles knowingly, like saying "What else is new?"

We let the laughter dissipate to a friendly silence – a rarity of its own. Then Alice grasps my hand.

"Tell me - what's it like?"

I look at her, the disbelief written on my face. "Yeah, like I'm going to tell you –seriously Alice, that's just –"

"No, no, not that – I meant, what's it like when he is away? Doesn't it just drive you crazy? If you don't mind me asking. I know you two are like joined from the hip." She chuckles for the double-entendre.

"No, I don't mind." I say, sighing, laughing a little, too. "And it does drive me crazy, on daily basis. Me and Edward – we're very..."I frown when I look for the right word. "...I think you would say _tactile_. And I don't just mean sex – even though it's a big part of it. But it's alarming how much I need his touch, all the time. It can be just brush of a hand, or sitting next to him, thighs or arms touching – as long as it's him. We can spend an evening lying side by side on this bed– both reading our books and just holding hands and not saying word." Somehow, when said aloud, it doesn't sound very different from any other married couple – although I know it is. I know it, because there is nights when we don't even make it to the bed, or even to the bedroom; when tiniest brush of a skin is enough to light the fire. We have it all.

Alice remains quiet, seemingly deeply in thoughts.

"How do you – how is it – now?" she asks abruptly.

I let out a dark laugh. "I can't say that I'm enjoying this – phone conversations don't even come close to...but I think this might be good for us."

"You think that distance is healthy for a relationship." Alice concludes.

"I think that we might benefit from a situation where we can't touch all the time and just have to find a way to express our feelings some other way. I know we can."

"But is it really worth it, Bella? I mean – why do you need to...test it?"

"This is not a test – I know and he knows that there is nothing that can truly separate us, not even this. And we don't really need to prove anything either. Mainly this is just me helping him follow his dream. I don't know if it's worth it – I'll know the answer to that when I have him safely home again. But I am willing to give it a chance." I don't know how much of the actual truth is included in my statement and I briefly wonder whether such a thing even exists in this situation. All I know is that it felt right at the time and now I'm just learning to live with our decision.

Alice doesn't seem convinced. I can tell that she is dying to ask something but is afraid it will offend me.

"What is it, Alice?" I prompt gently.

"It's just...what if he...what if you'll never know?"

"Do you mean that what if he doesn't come back?" I'm a little surprised how easily it comes out.

She nods, a little pale.

"He WILL come back, Alice. He has to." That's all there is to it. All this time, I haven't given myself the chance to even think about the other option. There_ is_ no other option.

"But Bella –" I don't let Alice to finish her argument.

"He. Will. Come. Back."

As I utter the words I suddenly feel like something freezing cold begins to run in my veins, slowly taking over my circulation. It's like my body already knows something my mind does not yet accept. I suppose I know what people mean when they talk about sixth sense.

"He...will." I try my hardest to not to make is sound like a question.


	10. Selfish

_A/N: Long time, no see. This chappy didn't come to be without a fight and I very nearly gave up the whole story just because it was so damn hard to write - for several reasons. I'm very happy I didn't though, as I do love this little piece of fanfic despite everything._

_Big thank you goes once again to my extremely talented beta Springlily86, who continues being supportive and is always available._

_I also want to thank for reviews, again. I am crappy when it comes to answering them, but I do read every single one of them and they mean the world to me. Being not so diligent reviewer myself I don't want to make demands and I appreciate all those too who just come and read and maybe alert me and my story._

_There is still more to come in this story - please be patient, as I'm not the quickest updater in the world...I'll do my best anyway._

_Please enjoy._

Selfish

The phone call comes at eight-thirty the same evening. Alice has left just an hour ago. I have been trying to occupy myself by washing dishes – to make myself forget _the feeling. _ When our phone finally rings I furiously hope that it's Edward, knowing at the same time that it isn't. I somehow also know that it is _about_ him.

"Mrs. Cullen?" the voice in the other end of the line asks when I pick up the phone.

"Yes?" I ask breathlessly, the cold liquid now completely consuming my body. _No, no, no_, my heart beats.

The call is from Baghdad. In the haze of my mind I notice that the caller has a nice and soft Irish accent. It figures –his name is Officer Eyre.

"We have some news about your husband." The even, faraway voice is silent for a moment, apparently expecting for me to respond. I don't. I barely manage to hold the receiver in my suddenly sweaty hands. _No, no, no,_ beats my heart.

"Mrs. Cullen – would you please sit down for me?" Officer Eyre says gently to the phone. I follow his request mutely. I'm quite sure he knows I'm listening – my breathing is so loud.

He is silent again for a while and when I have gained almost enough strength to say something, he speaks again.

"I'm afraid the news isn't good. Unfortunately your husband has been wounded severely in a conflict."

"Conflict?" I don't recognize my own voice.

"Yes. He was on duty, working at the ruins of a collapsed building where he and several other men were trying to help out a soldier trapped in. They were ambushed and your husband and the man he was trying to help were shot. I am so very sorry, Mrs. Cullen."

A strangled sob escapes from my lips followed by a silent, wailing noise which I don't recognise. My mind is still trying to comprehend what my body already knows. _No, no, no_, my heart goes, beating faster and faster by the second.

"Is – is- is," I try to speak. I need to ask something important, but find it physically impossible.

"He has been transferred to a military hospital in Germany last night, to have the best possible care. Mrs. Cullen – he is being well looked after."

Edward's alive.

Edward's alive.

Edward's alive, my heart beats, bumping the warm, familiar fluid through my distressed body. My arms wrap themselves around my stomach and I force myself take a deep breath.

"Thank you for letting me know, Officer." My voice is mine again – firm and calm.

"I am sorry, ma'am, but the situation is still quite critical. His injuries are extremely severe and he has yet to wake up from the medically induced coma."

"Co-coma?"

"The doctors had to anaesthetise him in order to be able to treat him. The wounds-"

"_The wounds_? There is more than one?!" I screech. I begin to feel light-headed again and I'm suddenly very thankful for the earlier advice to sit down.

"Yes, ma'am," Officer Eyre answers patiently, and his tolerance towards my rather thoughtless interruptions just proves the brilliance of his social skills. "The gun was of the same model US Army uses, so-called M16A4 – it shoots with massive energy and does quite significant damage when the bullet pierces a tissue. The exit wound is remarkably bigger and more severe than the one it has gone in. It also passed very close to his heart. The doctors are no certain of the extent of his injuries. "

I am desperately trying to wrap my mind around all this and the imminent relief of knowing he's alive is slowly transforming into a new feeling - terror. He is alive for now, but what about tomorrow?

"So what are you telling me, sir?" I ask timidly.

I hear him sigh deeply before answering. "What I am saying, Ma'am, is that your husband is alive. But I am also asking you to prepare yourself for the worst. We are doing everything we can here and as soon as it's safe for him we will transfer him back to US to receive appropriate care."

"When?"

"As soon as it's safe, Mrs. Cullen," he repeats gently. "For now it is impossible to give you a timeframe – it may be weeks or it may be months. As I said earlier, the doctors aren't quite sure about the whole extent of his injuries. He is going to have several surgeries done in the next few days and they will gradually give us more information."

Weeks, months maybe? And I am just supposed to sit around here, waiting and praying for the best?

Absolutely not. No way in hell am I agreeing to that.

"So right now my husband is in Germany?" I confirm, trying at the same time calculate how much money we have in our emergency account.

"Yes, Ma'am, in Landstuhl Regional Medical Centre. I can give you phone number where you can call to enquire after your husband. You should also know that as a family member you shall be flown there free of charge."

That's a relief – no need to lend money from our parents, then.

I also begin to feel a little giddy about the fact that I'm going to see him much sooner than I thought. For a short moment I let the sheer happiness of coming reunion consume me without letting the severity of the situation spoil the feeling.

"Mrs. Cullen? Are you still there?"

Officer's unsure voice startles me a little and brings me back to reality. A reality where my husband is seriously injured, and at the moment unconscious at a foreign hospital, and where I don't know if I'm going to see him alive again.

"Yes." My voice is barely a whisper.

"How soon do you think you can travel? Do you have anyone who could accompany you?"

Again, I struggle to think quickly, trying to ignore the paralyzing fear that has taken over me. I need to notify my boss, who is not going to love me after this, that's for sure. I have been on a sick leave for the last for days and have yet to inform her about my impending maternity leave. With a small sigh I realize that I may not have a job to come back to.

Not that any of that matter now. If it comes down to it, I'll rather quit my job than let it keep me from Edward.

I also need someone to look after our house; there has been several burglaries in our neighbourhood in the past years. Forks may be small town, but it has its criminals – a fact that keeps my father from starving to death.

"A couple of days should be enough," I finally decide. "And I think his parents will want to see him as well."

"Wonderful. Someone shall be in touch with about the flight details very soon." Officer Eyre is quiet for a brief moment and adds then: "Someone will also contact you if...if there appears any changes."

I understand the meaning of his words all too well. Two days feels like a lifetime now. Quite literally.

We finish the phone call after I've written down some important phone numbers and thanked the kind officer for his help and compassion. He asks me to take care of myself and to try not to worry too much.

I almost laugh at that.

I have never, ever in my life felt so utterly helpless. It's not only frustrating – it is also scary as hell. For now, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help him, to keep him alive. If I was one to pray, I would be on my knees now, and I would give everything I own for a promise that he will be alive even one more day. I suddenly realize how Edward must have felt when he heard that I was in a hospital two days ago – and he was all alone.

The thought of my poor man over there alone, albeit unconscious and thus unable to actually _feel _alone, breaks my heart. What if he wakes up before I get there? What if he's in pain? Something close to a voice of reason in my head informs me rather dryly, that there are probably a whole lot of people in the hospital more than able to help him if that is the case, but I find no comfort in that.

I need to tell him that I'm there for him and that he's not alone. Fully understanding the ridiculousness of the gesture I decide to write him a letter. Maybe I'll read it aloud to him, or maybe he can read it himself when he's better so we can laugh at its melodramatics together.

Doing nothing is simply not an option. It is not completely lost to me that I am essentially doing this to myself, to keep my thoughts occupied. I cannot afford to think about all the horrible scenarios and that's exactly what I would do if I didn't find something else to busy my mind with. So I write a letter.

It's the first proper letter I have written since elementary school - I had an Australian pen friend Victoria, whom I would write to once or twice a year. I remember writing on a blue stationary with daisies and puppies on it. This time I have to settle to a plain white sheet of paper and a blue ball point pen.

My first ever love letter is nothing fancy or pretty or special. Just my words to him.

"_Have you ever had a boyfriend?" Edward asked me abruptly, interrupting our comfortable silence. I was lying on my back on my narrow bed and Edward was sprawled on my rocking chair on the far corner of my dimly lit room._

_I raised my eyes from my book and saw him studying my modest CD collection absent-mindedly. I frowned thoughtfully, wondering what could possibly have brought this into his head._

"_No." After thinking about it a little bit I decided to elaborate. "I have been on dates, though."_

"_Really? With who?" In the near darkness of my room it was really hard to tell what kind of expression Edward was currently wearing, but his voice certainly sounded... off. I was even more puzzled than before._

"_With Tyler for senior prom and Mike...well, I guess it wasn't really a date. We were supposed to go to movies together but he started to feel sick at the cinema and had to leave before it even started. He hasn't asked me out since."_

_Edward remained silent after that. I struggled to see his face to find out what he was thinking, but he was still staring at my CD rack on the opposite wall._

_I stifled the urge to groan exasperatedly. Moody Edward was something I was soon getting familiar with but not necessarily enjoyed. That side of him made an appearance nearly every night at some point and to my deep satisfaction I was getting pretty good at making it disappear. _

"_Why do you ask?"_

"_No reason. Just wondering." He tried to sound nonchalant, I could tell, but he didn't really succeed. I rolled my eyes a little bit to his turned back and considered leaving it at that. But I really wanted to just get past this and get in to the making out part of the evening – that was why he was here, after all._

"_They were just dates, Edward. No kissing, no hand-holding, not even attempts. I think I'm better at being just one of the guys. Not really a hot date kind of girl."_

_Edward stood up suddenly and took two strides towards my bed until his knees hit the edge of it._

"_You've never been just "one of the guys", Bella," growled playfully, attacking my sides and tickling me until my giggles turned into screeches. _

"_Stop you crazy person! You can't just jump on to me like some...I don't know..." Not that I minded, in the least._

_The light atmosphere was back just like that and I exhaled happily when Edward crawled next to me, pulling me closer to his side. He dropped a single, feather-like kiss on my forehead and let out a sigh._

"_I think it's cute that you're jealous," I confessed, cuddling into him._

_Edward harrumphed. "Am not."_

"_You are totally jealous – although I can't see why. I'm the one who should feel threatened."_

"_A, I am not jealous and B, why should _you_ feel threatened?"_

"_A, whatever and B, you are the one with totally hot and amazingly beautiful ex-girl friend, with whom you had a proper long-term relationship."_

_Edward shrugged. "Emphasis on the word EX. It was only long-term because I was too stupid to end it when it should have ended."_

"_When was that?" I asked curiously._

"_After the first two weeks, I suppose. That was when the novelty had already worn off and we were left with this awkward not-quite- friendship- but- definitely- not- attraction- either -situation."_

"_Why didn't you end it then? If you knew it wasn't anything more?"_

"_Like I said, I was stupid and somehow had this crazy idea that we were supposed to be a couple because all our mutual friends were paired up and we were the two odd ones out."_

"_Did you...I mean...did you have..."I felt the blush burn my face and back tracked quickly, realizing that I really didn't want to know. "Never mind," I whispered finally._

"_Did we what?"_

"_Nothing. It's nothing."_

"_It's not 'nothing' if it makes you all...weird like that. Ask away, Bella." Edward gave me a little squeeze and lowered his gaze to meet my eyes._

"_I – I don't want to. Just forget I said anything," I pleaded my face still red as a tomato._

"_Not a chance. Hold on – ." A sudden realization flashed on his face. "Did you mean-? Bella, it wasn't like that. I told you, there was never really love or anything close to that. We kissed and I got to the...ermh...second base, but that's it."_

_I was really too mortified to talk so I chose to remain silent._

"_We didn't have sex, Bella."_

"_Ok," I squeaked and buried my burning face to his armpit. He smelled musky and honeyish and outdoorsy. It soothed my nerves a little. I felt him press a kiss to the crown of my head and more felt than heard the chuckle that followed._

_I knew that he wasn't telling me the whole story, but the most important part was out and that was all that mattered to me at the moment._

_It had been less than a week since Edward's first nightly visit. We decided that the likelihood of him getting caught out of his bed in the middle of the night was a little too big and could have ended us both grounded. We decided to meet at seven o'clock instead and Edward would leave before his parents got suspicious. Charlie was blissfully unaware that his only daughter had a visitor every night and we much preferred it that way. I cringed at the thought of the third degree interrogation that surely was waiting for us both if he'd found out. And I was more than certain that he wouldn't allow us alone in my room. Not that we were doing anything he'd have to worry about._

_I was working from Monday to Thursday, so evenings were really all we had. My dad wasn't happy for me to stay out late on weekdays when I had to go to work in the morning and to my utter disbelief, he had even attempted to set up a curfew – on the summer leave of his 18-years-old daughter. I had placated his nerves by promising to stay home on weekdays, as long as I was allowed to do whatever I pleased on weekends. He had grudgingly agreed, probably knowing that he didn't really have any other option and that I wasn't going to cause trouble anyway. He, of course wasn't aware that Edward and I...whatever it was that that Edward and I were._

_Charlie was doing night shifts this week, so I didn't need to explain my eagerness to get into my room right after work. Needless to say, we were both quite excited about the coming weekend – three days of uninterrupted bliss. I knew that we really needed to talk and I think he knew that too. So far we hadn't really talked anything deeper than some everyday topics and usually we engaged ourselves into a light chatter about books, movies and music we liked about. Still, the growing intensity between us and the emotions below the surface needed to be discussed – no matter how much the mere thought embarrassed me. _

_I was still fairly sure that the depth of my feeling towards him greatly surpassed his feelings towards me. Getting confirmation to that felt frightening and I already mentally prepared myself to a heart break. I definitely knew that what I was feeling wasn't friendship, but I really didn't know Edward well enough to know what he considered as such. I didn't want to ruin these few happy evenings we had before that inevitable conversation, though, so I simply focused on feeling and not so much on reasoning._

_I didn't know why I felt so insecure of him, even after witnessing his obvious jealousy and his eagerness to kiss me and stay close to me. According to my very limited experience with the opposite sex , that could have easily been something that all the boys did with their female friends. Then again, Edward wasn't exactly 'all the boys'. I let out a long, exasperated sigh._

"_What is it?" he asked from next to me. _

"_I wish I could read minds," I blurted out without thinking and then blushed furiously._

_Edward laughed, bewildered. "Why?"_

"_It's just...you might be an expert in reading people and knowing their ulterior motives, but I'm not that gifted."_

_He touched my nose with his forefinger. _

"_Whose ulterior motives are you interested in?"_

"_What do you think, genius?" I brushed his nose with mine._

"_Mine?" He asked, looking genuinely confused. I rolled my eyes at him._

"_What makes you think I have ulterior motives – and what are we really talking about here?" His tone grew suspicious. _

_I shrugged. Apparently _the discussion_ was to take place here and now, instead of foreseeable future. Might as well let it all out._

"_What are we doing here?"_

_Edward didn't clearly quite follow me. "Where?"_

_I stifled an urge to grit my teeth and took a deep breath._

_I turned on my back, not quite able to look in to his forest green eyes while receiving his rejection._

"_I just...are we still friends?" I really didn't know how to phrase my initial question._

_He didn't answer. The silence that followed was long, meaningful and excruciating. I was sure he had heard me, so there was no need to repeat my words, but the fact that he had to think about the answer promised nothing good._

_When I was about ready to either curl into a ball and vanish from the face of earth or simply run out of the room, he finally answered. With a question of his own._

"_Sure. Why do you ask?" His voice was foreign and detached. _

"_I...just...nothing. Just checking," I said in a small voice. _

_Right. Well. At least I had his friendship. And he was a good friend. Never too many of good friends. I was furiously blinking my eyes, to keep my stupid tears at bay. I cleared my throat and started to stand up. Before I had a chance to move Edward grasped my arm._

"_Bella." Now his tone was soft, almost tender. When I didn't meet his eyes, he grabbed my chin and turned my face to his. Slowly he bowed his head towards me and swept his lips against mine. Without moving from this position, he whispered:_

"_I don't know how comfortable I am with the thought of you kissing your other guy friends, though." _

_Pleasurable shiver run down my spine, and only sound I managed to make was something close to "Oh."_

_Edward continued, his lips just barely touching mine: _

"_I think I have to forbid you from kissing anyone else."_

"_Is that so?"_

"_I'm afraid so. As your boyfriend I really don't see any other option." And then he pressed his lips completely on mine and kissed me like he meant it._

Edward has always been the one with the words and I just – well, I sure can appreciate beautifully written letter, but have never really known how to put my thoughts into words. I often tease Edward that he speaks like someone from a different era, especially when he talks about his feelings. Truthfully, there is never even a trace of pretence or falseness in his speech. But I have to admit that it took a while before I let myself believe that he means every cheesy word he says, that he is not saying things just because they sound good or sophisticated.

First two or three sheets of paper end up being grumbled to a ball on the kitchen floor and when I finally complete the letter I still feel unsatisfied. I want to say _everything_ without saying literally everything and for once expressing myself beautifully. I want him to know that I am so proud of him and I would be there in a heartbeat if that was in any way possible. I don't want him to feel lonely.

Of course I end up writing just a silly, old fashioned love letter, with lots of "I love you's " and "I miss you's" and some mindless stream of thought. But one can see me and my feelings from between every single line. Maybe he keeps it under his pillow when he wakes up and smells the paper looking for my scent. Maybe he laughs a little for my hopelessly messy handwriting. I don't really mind, as long as he feels a little less lonely while reading it.

Then there is the rest of the day. The writing has taken about an hour and after that I manage to amuse myself with fantasies about how Edward might feel and think and look like when he receives the letter for another hour.

The reality hits me like a ton of bricks.

I sit in our kitchen trying desperately to cling into my happy thoughts when I suddenly find myself wondering: _what if I never have a chance to give him this letter?_ That's all I need to lose my composure. One can only distract oneself so long. I freeze on my seat, grasping the edge of the table so hard it hurts my fingers and my breath comes in short gasps.

A world where Edward doesn't exist is something I have never been forced to imagine – I've planned to live long and happy life with him and then someday, when we're both old, die with him. Without wanting to sound melodramatic, I know for a fact that I simply cannot live without him being alive. I can bear the distance and the fear for him and even not touching him, as long as there is even theoretical possibility of me seeing him again.

What impossibly insane, thoughtless whim made me send the one truly meaningful and irreplaceable thing away from me – and he would have stayed if I'd asked?! He was ready to cancel all the plans just minutes before his departure, just for me. If he now dies there is really only one person to blame. Only one person how could have saved his life, but didn't. Even when he asked.

Me.

The guilt would crush me on the spot if it wasn't for the fact that it really doesn't matter. Sure, it is satisfying to have something to point a finger to, but the truth is that if he doesn't survive this, the guilt is on the bottom of the list of emotions I will surely go through. Grief makes one selfish. I'll only feel the loss of him and that alone overshadows everything else. I know that the horror I feel right now is only a tiny fragment of the one I'll have to face if the worse happens, but I'm already nearing the edge of my sanity.

The room spins around me, first slowly, swaying like a swing and then accelerating and finally I can only see blurry flashes of colours and hear the air whooshing through my ears. I find myself from the kitchen floor, clutching my knees to my chest, rocking my body back and forth, my eyes wide open but seeing nothing.

What finally brings me back, if only temporarily, is some kind of maternal instinct. Somewhere deep in the whirlwind of emotions in mind I find myself thinking: _this can't be good for the baby. _It's not much but it's enough for me stop hyperventilating and to slowly taking in my surroundings. The tiled floor feels cold and hard under me and makes my sides hurt. The old kitchen clock ticks on loudly as if time hasn't stopped and the world was still there like before. I can hear the refrigerator humming. I can smell soap and cinnamon and lavender in the air. I hear the phone ringing.

_The phone is ringing_, I realize with delay, and try to sit up in a daze. When I finally find my feet the ringing has stopped. My cell gives a beep indicating a text message, but I am still too deep in my foggy state to react to it. I lean my back on to the foot of the table and pull my knees to my chest like before. The only difference is that I am now sitting up.

After some time I hear someone on the front door. I don't move from my spot and the visitor doesn't ring the bell. The door opens and closes, but I still just sit there. Esme's figure appears in the kitchen doorway. She doesn't say anything, only looks at me. Then she comes to where I sit and sits down next to me.

"Oh Sweetheart," she says quietly and wraps her arms around me. She feels warm and motherly.

"I just heard..." she says quietly. "Officer Eyre called us and said that he had already talked to you."

I nod mutely and lean my head on her shoulder. I feel calmer now when Esme is here and also very thankful that I don't have to explain myself to her. With a pang I realize how selfish I'm being – I'm not the only one in this nightmare. Edward is also a beloved son and brother.

"I'm sorry, Esme..." I wrap my arms around her. "I haven't even thought about you guys...this must be awful..."

"Hey, hey, hey! Bella – we are in this together. And we still have him."

Esme apparent certainty makes me feel a little more confident too. I let her lead me into bed, tuck me in like a child and stroke my hair. I am still waiting for the tears, but for the first time in weeks I don't feel like crying. The tight ball of emotions inside my chest is still too heavy and for now I'm doing everything I can to ignore it. It's the only way not to fall apart.

I put my hand on my slightly swollen abdomen under the blanket and let out a sigh.

"Thank you, Esme," I whisper. I try to fill my voice with appropriate amount of gratitude and hide the numbness that is slowly but surely taking over.

"Don't worry about it, dear. Each of us copes on our own way. I'm sure Edward would want you to concentrate on taking care of yourself and the baby. And I'll do everything in my power to help you with that. It's my way of dealing with this." Esme smiles at me gently.

"And I need to keep my promise." She says it so quietly that I very nearly miss it.

"Promise?"

Esme shakes her head as if to clear it. "I made a promise to him."

"To Edward?"

"Yes. Before he left. "

I feel something chilly creeping up my spine.

"What did he say, Esme?" I ask warily, locking my eyes with Esme's. She looks uncomfortable and to my horror, guilty.

"Bella..."she sighs eventually. "You know what he's like...when it comes to you and your well being, he tends to go to extremes. I don't think you even realize what he is capable of."

"What do you mean?"

"He...he had a bad feeling about leaving you. And not just about leaving you but also...also about going in general. He said that it was his dream and he was very thankful for you for being supportive and all...but at the same time, he had this _feeling..._ that something bad was going to happen. They only way I was able to console him were to promise to look after you, no matter what happens. I said that he could trust us to take care of you so he had only himself to take care of. For some reason it made him feel better."

I don't know what to think. I knew that he had his doubts about going, about being apart and about my coping, but never with one word did he indicate of being actually afraid. For his own life. Suddenly it seems strikingly obvious – of course he has been afraid! It is too easy to forget that he has any concerns about his own well-being when he is so caring and loving and considerate of mine.

I feel like an idiot.

"Of course he was afraid," I say aloud, more to myself than to Esme. "And he would've insane not to feel any apprehension or fear for his own life. You are _supposed _to be scared when you go to a war." I am so mad at myself that it, fortunately, encompasses every other emotion for a moment.

"Even if his wife was too self engrossed and wrapped in her own feelings to give any notion for his fears, " I say bitterly.

Esme strokes my hair gently, and in any other circumstances the effect would be impossibly calming.

"You didn't see his fears because he didn't want you to. He knew that in many ways, you had the worst end of the bargain and he didn't want to add to your burden."

"_My _burden?" I exclaim, incredulous. Surely I just misheard her?

"Bella, from his point of view, the sacrifice was all yours. You encouraged him to go because you knew it was what he had dreamed of, despite the fact that doing so you'd have to live in a constant fear of losing him. For him, it was the greatest gift you could have given him, because he also knows how much you need him."

I prop myself up in a sitting position, leaning my back on the headboard. Esme's hand drop off of me in the process, and she sits down on the edge of the bed.

"I feel like I pushed him to do something that I thought he wanted to do, so I wouldn't have to feel guilty of keeping him from doing anything he wanted; and he did it because he thought I wanted him to, even though he was scared for himself. For me, it seems like I was the only selfish one in the equation." I can't meet Esme's eyes, not knowing what I would find in there.

Her voice, however, is nothing but understanding.

"All our deeds are ultimately selfish, Bella."

I let out a half-amused, half frustrated groan.

"True. And now I am making this whole situation about myself. I haven't even asked how you feel about all this!"

I finally meet Esme's gaze just to notice the same pain in her eyes I recognize in myself. I am truly one self –centred brat, no matter what she says.

"I am scared shitless." I startle I little of her blunt statement. I've never heard her using such language; instead I've more than once witnessed her chastising Emmett for his crude vocabulary.

"I've already buried one of my children. That is something I wish not to have to endure ever again."

I let out an involuntary gasp of surprise. "Oh, Esme...I didn't know..."

Esme shakes her head. "No-one else but Carlisle does. The baby was our first, two years before Emmett."

I feel sick. My hands have unconsciously risen to my abdomen, shielding the little life inside. I can't find anything to say and for a couple of minutes we sit in silence. I stare mutely in her face and she has her eyes focused somewhere far away.

"It's been almost thirty years...and I still remember every excruciating detail...what it was to find her in her crib, lifeless...and the realization that there was absolutely nothing I could do to save her. Not that it kept me from trying... Carlisle was at work, so I was home alone. The phone call to him was...I never knew he was capable of such a sound..." A single, strangled sob escapes from Esme, but her face remains expressionless. However emotionally uninhibited she might otherwise seem, clearly there are some things that were locked up so deep that even she herself can't reach them.

Wordlessly I crawl over to her, wrapping my arms around her, and finally, feel something unravel inside me. I cry against my Mother-In-Law's shoulder as she cries against mine.

After a while Esme extracts herself from my arms to look at my eyes.

"Bella, this is different. He is still alive and this time I know that there is something I can do for him. You and your baby are like an extension of him and if you just let me take care of you..."

"Anything," I promise. Esme is right. Every deed we do in life is essentially selfish. What makes the difference is whether it is done out of love.


	11. Caruso

_A/N: Yep, still here. The best way of making up the huuuuge delay is to get on with the story, so here goes. Oh, and Steph Meyer owns it all. _

Caruso

I am not exactly looking forward to going back to work, even temporarily, but it is one of those things in life you just can't avoid forever. Although I have decided to do as much from home as possible, at the very least I have to go and see my boss. Even if it's just to inform her that I need time off – again.

I work in a small publishing company with less than thirty employees. Its specialty is non-fiction and biographies. Not quite what I had in my mind when I majored in English literature. However, Edward and I wanted to stay in Forks which remarkably limited the options in my career of choice. It was Iceberg Publishing or nothing. With Edward being aspiring doctor and both of us having impressive student loans on our backs I had to take what was offered.

Kate is a good boss and it's not her fault that I have my head in the clouds and that I entertain ludicrous dreams of having a part in some timeless piece of classic English literature. It's not her fault that _The Rise and Fall of Blimps_ doesn't fascinate me as much as it probably should, considering that I'm the editor of said book. And right now I am only thankful for the distraction it provides from my otherwise distressed thoughts.

I try to come up with some solution in case my boss doesn't approve my continuing absence. I haven't even notified her about my pregnancy. And now that I think of it, I haven't even told my mom. I just haven't been able to focus on anything else in the aftermath of the news of Edward's injury.

Alice has tried to console me saying that no news is good news and all the other crap you are supposed to say to a worried wife of a soldier, but with not much success. Worrying is all I _can_ do, and I'm doing it quite thoroughly. I have tried to call that emergency number in Germany, but the lady in the other end was much less co-operative than Officer Eyre. Also her English left a lot to be desired. She seemed to think that dealing with hysterical spouses were not what she signed for and didn't bother even pretend empathy. Not that I need empathy. Information is what I need, reassurance that my husband is still alive and recovering. Finally, after a rather frustrating twenty minute argument with the unpleasant officer she kindly informed me that at the moment it was only apparent that Edward had been admitted to the hospital the day before, but that she didn't have access to his medical records.

Some "emergency" number.

If that had been the only piece of information I got, I would have gone mad, but luckily Officer Eyre called me the day after and delivered much better news. He tells me that Edward is still under sedation, but is no longer connected to a ventilator. That was all Eyre knew so far, but he promised to keep me posted. I find it more than a little amusing that a person in Iraq knows more about my husband than the one who is working in the hospital he's being treated. Oh well.

As fidget in my plastic chair in front of Kate's office waiting to be called in, I run through the list of people in my head that are yet to be notified about my leaving country for unknown period of time.

I have called Dad this morning and he was more than happy to keep an eye of our house. He is one of those people whose unconditional love always manages to take me by surprise.

Carlisle and Esme are planning to travel with me, although Carlisle can't stay for more than a week because of his job. I feel unbelievably relieved to not to have to go there on my own or with some one less familiar. I was also glad to find out that Esme speaks rather fluent German.

Calling my mom hasn't even passed my mind before now. I haven't even told her about the pregnancy and I am more than a little scared of her reaction. I can still vividly remember her completely freaking out when we announced our engagement the day after graduation and how she declared that all high school born relationships are bound to end badly. She kindly waited until both of our families were present in our engagement party to make this delightful notion. Edward was amused, his family uncomfortable, Charlie furious and I was beyond mortified.

Phil managed to keep mom under control on our wedding day, but he obviously couldn't be there when I was being dressed and prepared with my bridesmaids Alice and Angela. Both of the moms wanted to be there to see me put on my gown and that was when Renee chose to bring up "how nice it must be to marry into such a wealthy family". She also asked me if that was the reason I didn't want to wait. I was so mad at her that I ignored her completely the rest of the day.

I love my mom but distance is essential to our relationship. I call her once or twice a month and she calls on my birthdays, but we don't really have deep mother-daughter conversations or bonding moments.

"Bella!"

Jessica's slightly nasal voice breaks in to my consciousness and I look up from my lap to see her just a couple of feet away from me.

"Hello, stranger!" she laughs at me. Jessica is one of those people who have changed for better since her teenage years. She had a long and tempestuous relationship with Mike Newton, but for everyone's relief they were wise enough to call it off before any legal commitments were made. She did, however, get pregnant by him and is now happy single mother of five-years-old Thomas. Motherhood suits her – gone is the spiteful, envious girl I once loathed and she is now actually a friend of mine. Not like Angela or Ben, who know everything there is to know about me and still love me, but in a way that we feel comfortable around each other and have things to talk about.

"Hi, Jess," I greet her, and get up to hug her. "Good to see you."

"I heard you've been in a hospital." The thing that has not changed in Jessica is the hungry gossip. I think she would make quite a nice living as a journalist, if she'd give it a try. There is not much to gossip about in the small town of Forks, but that doesn't stop her. Nothing's too insignificant for her.

"Yes, I was. Appendicitis." We sit back down, Jess taking a seat next to mine.

"Oh, that sounds awful! My cousin had that few years ago; I heard that the stomach pain is a bitch."

"You could say so. It was like being stabbed to my guts, repeatedly."

"Oh gosh." Jessica shudders. I chuckle darkly, remembering the agony. Too late I notice Jess's piercing gaze drift to my midsection. I'm wearing my most comfortable black slacks and a button-down shirt, which conceal my tiny but definitely existing baby-bump nicely – but this is Jessica we are talking about. The woman misses _nothing._ And once she finds out about my little secret it might be soon considered as a common knowledge. Jessica Stanley can't keep a secret to save her life.

I try to fold my arms in front of my belly inconspicuously. I'm not sure why I resent the idea of becoming public with my news – happy as I am about it myself. Somehow it feels like hanging on the last shreds of control over my own life, which seems to be all over the place these days. And I need to be in control of _something. _

To my extreme relief Jessica shifts her eyes to my hand – and notices immediately my bare finger. I noticed this morning that my wedding band and engagement rings felt too tight in my slightly swollen fingers, so with a deep sigh I took them off and put them on a golden chain instead, clasping it around my neck. I don't like the loss of their weight on my hands. They've been there ever since Edward put them on my finger. It has been our nightly ritual – after my shower he takes them from the bathroom counter and slips them back on my finger, as gently and lovingly as the very first time. I used to laugh at his reverent expression while he was doing this, but didn't even try to hide how much I loved this tradition.

Since he's been gone I haven't touched them at all, until this morning, that is.

"Did you lose your rings?" Jess asks, peering at me curiously. "What a shame, your engagement ring's gorgeous!"

"No, no. I...I forgot them on my night stand, can you believe it!" I use all my non-existent acting skills to divert her attention from me to something – anything – else.

"I mean, I was in such a haste this morning and just forgot to put them back after my shower!"

"Oh, Bella, I think it's completely understandable – I wonder how you're able to function at all, with Edward being wounded and all!"

I don't know what to say. I have not been aware that everyone already knows what has happened. It definitely does make me feel a little violated.

Jess has noticed my distress, which has to be fairly obvious on my face at the moment. I refuse to cry in front of her – although she clearly means well.

"I'm so sorry, Bella!" she exclaims and takes my hand in hers as a sincere gesture of comfort. "I shouldn't have brought that up. That was awful from me."

"No, Jess...it's not you." I force a tight smile at her. "I'm just under a lot of stress right now and a bit overwhelmed. You are being a good friend."

"You know if you need anything – I'm here for you."

She looks at me in earnest with her bright blue eyes and I can't help but hug her. "I know that Jess. Thank you."

My cell beeps in my purse and I reach for it. It's a text from Esme.

" **meet you at the clinic at 2?" **

"Shoot!" I hiss from between my teeth. I have completely forgotten my appointment for today. Looks like a have to postpone my little talk with Kate. After saying goodbye to Jessica I make a detour through the office and my cubicle, collecting my mail and tidying up a little. It's already 1.30 and I have no time to waste. My mind is really all over the place these days!

Half an hour later I'm back at the office. The appointment wasn't today, after all. I hung my throbbing head on my hands, wishing that the stupid day was over already. The look on the receptionist's face at the clinic was full of pity when I rushed in cheeks flaming and out of breath. She looked even sorrier for me when she told that there has been a mix up with appointments. Emily's whole week is fully booked, but the nurse managed to get me a short phone appointment for tomorrow. I really don't have a choice. After calling Esme I made my way back to work, barely seeing straight from my head ache.

Kate calls me into her office looking stressed out and rather exhausted. When I hesitantly tell her about my continuing absence, she lets out a deep sigh but doesn't look particularly surprised.

"I'm sorry to hear about your husband," she says, looking at me over her computer screen. "How're you doing?"

"I'm OK," I reply noncommittally. "Worried."

"Of course." Kate looks thoughtful. "So I suppose you are going to go see him?"

"I am leaving with his parents in next couple of days."

Kate grimaces and then let's out a sigh. She takes of her glasses and rubs her forehead tiredly.

"Look," she says finally. "It's not that I don't appreciate your situation – because I really do – but I have to be honest. This is not exactly the perfect time for anyone to leave. Not that I blame you!" She looks at me alarmed, as if making sure she hasn't hurt me. I shrug it off with a smile.

"See, there are going to be some changes in management and we are going to have a new chief editor in each department. Yours is the only one who hasn't worked for Iceberg Publishing before - her name is Tanya Denali." She notes my startled expression and continues: "Perhaps you've heard of her. She used to go to Forks High. Tanya has a degree in both marketing and English literature." Something in the way she says all this tells me that she is not entirely happy to have Tanya as her employee. Then she shakes her head as if to shrug off unpleasant thought. "She's absolutely brilliant."

My mind is a mess.

Yes. I do know Tanya Denali – a woman who I have never had a word with, but who I know hates my guts for stealing her boyfriend. I haven't heard that Tanya has moved back to town – Rosalie is still friends with her and sometimes goes to see her in New York where she has been living for the past five years. Rose was the one who told me about Tanya's less than fond feelings towards me.

She did it in her own blunt way, when I wondered innocently why Tanya never came to see Rose, seeing that she was the one without children. "It's because she hates you, Bella," was Rosalie's comforting answer. "Or it's more like she hates seeing her ex with you."

"But it was high school!" I had sputtered out incredulously. "It's been _years_!" Rose had merely shrugged at that. Apparently that wasn't nothing more than what she expected from her friend.

And now I will have the joy of working under this person, who not only despises me, but can also fire my butt at anytime. Fabulous.

"When do you think you're going to be able to come back?" Kate's query cuts into my thoughts. Right. I _am_ leaving. Tanya can still fire me, but at least she won't be able to do it on my face.

I bite my lower lip, trying desperately to find a way to make my next piece of information sound like good news that it is rather than the last nail on Kate's proverbial coffin. I come up with nothing.

"The thing is..." I begin, cowardly avoiding my boss' eyes. "The thing is that Edward's recovery may take up months and no one really knows when he'll be fit to be transferred back home...and then we're going to have a baby around the end of July..." I hate myself a little bit for sounding so shameful – it's not like I'm committing a crime here.

It's funny how Kate is possibly the most amazing boss in the world and is never unreasonable or unfair, but she still manages to make me feel fidgety in the situations like this. I know that as an editor I'm really not irreplaceable, and that fact makes me a little worried, too. I would still like to think that I'll have a job to come back to. Although, come to think of it, with Tanya as my boss, I might not want to.

I hear Kate exhaling, and finally find enough courage to meet her gaze. She looks, if possible, even more drained.

"Wow," she says quietly. "Congrats, then. That's great news!" She truly tries to look as if she means it. "I'm real happy for you...a baby!"

I say nothing, just smile a little.

"Look, I'm still going to be the head of personnel, but in future you will have to be in touch with your respective departments. In between you and me, I wouldn't stop being in touch even during your absence. Ms Denali is known to be a firm leader." Somehow I get the feeling that "firm" is quite an understatement.

In plain English: Prepare to fight for your job.

"I will absolutely finish my current projects before I go – I'm almost done with the blimp thing already, and I can hurry along the other two." I'll be damned if I give up without at least trying.

Kate looks relieved. "I would appreciate that." This time her smile is genuine and wide. "So – how've you _really_ been?"

We both relax and spend the next half an hour engaged in normal girly chatter.

"So let me check if I have everything right here - for the past few days you've had severe headaches, loss of appetite, fatigue..."

"I'm just stressed out about Edward, that's all," I hurry to interrupt. "And then there's the small fact that I'm pregnant," I joke. Emily doesn't appear very amused, just thoughtful. The truth is: I've already decided to go, no matter what she says, or what Carlisle says. They are just doctors and the last thing I care about right now is my own health.

"Yes...that's what I'm worried about, Bella."

"Emily, really," I start earnestly. "I'm sure it all will go away when I get to see him and actually _do_ something for him. It's all this frustration and worrying that's getting to me. I just need to be with him."

"You shouldn't go, Bella. As your doctor-".

Again, I don't let her finish. I can hear the desperation in my voice and to my dismay feel the ever present tears prickling in my eyes.

"I have to go." Even I can't miss how childish that sounds.

"You are endangering both of your lives – and I'm pretty sure we both know what Edward's opinion would be if he had a say in this. I know you don't want to think about your own health right now, but how do you think Edward would feel if you miscarried because you wanted to go and see him?"

I can't help but flinch at Emily's unusual bluntness.

"The flight alone stands a risk because of your blood pressure. I know you may think that once you see him all will be well, but really – it won't make him heal any quicker or you to worry any less."

"Don't you think I would worry here even more?" My voice is thick, but I fight against crying. I'm running out of arguments here and it makes me unwilling to hear any voice of reason.

"Probably," Emily admits. "But at least here you have all your family and friends to support you, a doctor that knows you and you get to stay home and rest whenever you need it. And didn't you say that his parent's are going to travel Germany too? Don't you think they will be capable of looking after him as well as you would?"

"I know they're capable." I am completely defeated. For purely selfish reasons the thought of staying home feels horrible and unbearable – but I have others to consider here, too. To my horror I actually catch myself thinking: "if only there wasn't the baby..."

I shake the thought as quickly as it comes, but can't help but feel disgusted about myself. If there's something good about the situation, it's that I still am carrying our child – and he or she will be ours no matter what happens. Edward has made his sacrifice, I have to make mine. Even if it's different and a lot harder than I ever thought it'd be.

"_What is it?"_

"_What's what?"_

"_You're thinking about something."_

"_No I'm not."_

"_I know you are."_

"_You can't read my mind."_

"_Yep. That's why I'm asking. What is it?"_

"_It's nothing."_

"_Bella!"_

"_What?"_

"_Why do you keep doing that?" Edward's car came to a screeching stop in front of Cullen Mansion. He turned his fuming face to me, looking deliciously pissed._

_I shrugged. I wasn't necessarily _trying_ to annoy him, but being more than a little annoyed myself I had decided to ignore his ire. It wasn't like he could stay angry to me for a very long time anyway, I noted a little smugly._

_His inability to predict my actions and find out my motives was slowly but surely driving him insane – or that's what he kept saying. I wasn't used to speak my mind or display my emotions and found it utterly incomprehensible why Edward insisted that as his girlfriend I should tell him everything. _

_Everything?_

_I could feel my cheeks flaming at the mere thought of letting him inside my head. I had never kept Diary and for one reason only: I couldn't bear the thought of someone even accidentally finding out my deepest thoughts and desires. Not to mention that seeing them written down myself would have made them seem silly and absurd._

_Edward was relatively gifted when it came to instinctively knowing when people were lying to him or when they were something else they were trying to appear. He was good at reading people that way – and it drove him absolutely out of his mind to not be able to read me at all. _

_To my opinion, he was starting to get a bit too arrogant about "knowing people" and "seeing their thoughts in their faces". I did agree that people tend to be fairly predictable when it comes to reactions and typical male or female behaviour, but it doesn't rule out the fact that there are as many motives behind those actions as there are human beings._

"_Bella?" Edward's irritated voice startled me from my musings. "Why are we keeping secrets from each other?"_

"_If you want to dig around in other people's heads, become a shrink or a brain surgeon! Quit with the pestering," I snapped at him. He looked a little taken aback, I noted with satisfaction. I rarely raised my voice. "The beauty of secrets is that you have to earn the right to hear them." _

_Hurt flashed in Edward's eyes. "You don't think I'm trustworthy?"_

"_No, you douche. It's not about you. It's about me feeling comfortable enough around you to tell my secrets to."_

"_But I don't like not knowing what you think," he whined. _

"_Just trying to keep up your interest, honey," I smirked. He smiled back at me and tugged my chin._

"_I'm sorry, Bella. It just drives me nuts that in some ways you are like an open book, but on the other hand utterly unpredictable."_

"_Are you saying that you feel insecure around me?" I half-teased. "Wow, who would've known..."_

_To my surprise, he shrugged and let out an awkward chuckle. "You tend to do that to a guy. Stop being so amazing so I can stop being insecure."_

_I blushed at his sudden sweetness. I lowered my gaze to my lap feeling a little shy._

_Edward didn't let go of my chin and brought my eyes back to his. The back of his free hand brushed my flaming cheek and his one-sided smile made my stomach flutter._

"_I'm sorry, love. You know you don't _have_ to tell me anything, right? As long as you feel you _can."

_He might have said something else as well, but I didn't hear it. I was completely lost in the depths of his forest green eyes and the new name of endearment he had just given me._

_I knew I was in love with him and there really was no point in denying that from myself, however silly and deluded I felt I was. I was also fairly certain that Edward harboured some kind of feelings toward me, but neither one of us seemed ready bring out the L-word quite yet. Well, before now, anyway. Two weeks didn't feel like a long enough time to develop such emotions. _

_I had never been in love before. Not even close – Edward was my first boyfriend and the scale of emotions I went through on daily basis was nothing short of overwhelming. I could be delirious with happiness in one moment and totally depressed in other. I had never been gladder that my feelings weren't obvious on my face, or if they were, he didn't recognise them._

_The soft notes of an_ _unfamiliar opera aria drifted into my consciousness. Among other curiosities in my boyfriend, the one thing I would never have guessed was that he really liked opera. He had somewhat abashedly confessed that he couldn't fall asleep without Verdi on the background. The very same day I had browsed through Charlie's LP collection and to my enormous surprise found an album called "The Very Best of Verdi." It didn't turn me into an opera fanatic, but it did make me feel closer to Edward – he was quite possibly listening to the exact same aria at the same moment I was. Now I only needed to learn Italian..._

"_Bella?"_

_I smiled to him to show that I was paying attention._

"_Are you ready to go in?" Right. Dinner. At the Cullens'._

"_I like this one. Is it Verdi's as well?" I asked, nodding towards the CD player. Edward beamed at me, looking pleasantly surprised of my sudden show of interest. _

"_No, this is Caruso by Lucio Dalla. Do you recognize the singer?"_

_Uh oh. This really, really wasn't my forte. "Povaratti?" I threw from the top of my head. Edward's boisterous laughter was both heart-warming and insulting._

"_You mean Pavarotti?" he asked, still chuckling. I shrugged, still a little miffed._

"_It's a good guess. His version of _Caruso_ is the only one worth listening."_

_I almost asked "why", but then decided against it. I probably wouldn't understand the answer anyway._

"_What is it about? Is it a story?" I asked instead._

_Edward's expression turned peculiar. Awkward._

"_Yes... it is a story of sorts. It's about a man...telling a woman how much he loves him." His cheeks seemed a little redder than normal._

"_Sounds like every other love song I've heard. But I like it."_

"_I can translate it to you, if you want," Edward offered._

"_You know Italian?" Why wasn't I surprised?_

"_Not much...but this particular song is kind of...special to me and I know it word to word."_

"_Well?" I looked at him expectantly. Edward moved on his seat, averting my gaze._

"_Why don't I write it down for you and you can have it tonight."_

"_NO! I want to hear it now! Please?" Whether he wanted it or not, he had really managed to trigger my curiosity._

"_Esme is waiting for us, Bella." Edward's tone left little room for arguments. "Tonight," he promised, softer._

_I read the neatly written lines that night in haven of my room and finally fell asleep with a deep blush on my cheeks and wide smile on my lips. _

"Call me every day," I remind for about twentieth time, hugging Esme tightly. "Promise."

"I promise, Sweetheart. And you take care of yourself for us."

"I want to hear about every little detail. No matter how insignificant."

"Don't worry, Bella," Carlisle says in a soothing tone. "We'll bring him back to you."

"And you have my letter?"

"He'll have it as soon as he opens his eyes. First thing," Esme promises. "And Bella?"

I rise my eyes to hers, still holding both of her hands in mine. "Mmhmm?"

"Please – try not to worry too much. We'll look after him, you look after yourself and the baby, ok?"

I nod briefly.

"And if there's problem with anything, you'll let us know, right?" Carlisle demands.

"Yes."

With smiles and the last kisses my parents-in-law move toward the airport security. I remember painfully the last time I was standing at this same spot, saying goodbyes to certain pair of green eyes. I recall perfectly the wonder in them and the reverent adoration.

For a moment I am nearly paralyzed for the fear that I've lost them forever.

_A/n: Again, thanks for my ever so diligent beta Springlily._


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